


do you ever dream of me

by faerie_ground



Series: yet another kingsman/bodyguard crossover [1]
Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018), Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Friends With Benefits AU, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, compliant with kingsman the golden circle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:49:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23479945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faerie_ground/pseuds/faerie_ground
Summary: “We’re drunk,” David murmurs, ever the voice of reason. “We’re going to regret this.”“We won’t,” Eggsy says assuredly, confidently, and grabbing on the lapels of David’s jacket, yanks him in.
Relationships: David Budd/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Series: yet another kingsman/bodyguard crossover [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817047
Comments: 40
Kudos: 109





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a oneshot but it got too long so its been split up

Eggsy, truth be told, doesn’t actually like having sex in bathrooms. First of all, bathrooms generally have an unsanitary air about them. Besides that, the granite of the sinks always feel cold against his hips, there is the ever present fear of being walked in on and unlike what people might say, he actually really isn’t that much of an exhibitionist- and truth be told, he’s never liked the look of himself in the mirror mid coitus. 

For David Budd, however, he suspects he might be up for anything. 

“Come on, harder,” he moans, reaching around behind him to grab at David’s hip, pushing him even more inside him- they’re plastered together so tightly it’s actually impossible, but he tries his damndest anyway. David’s gripping his own hip fairly bruisingly, nails digging in and hand clenched around the bone so tight Eggsy knows he’ll be sporting a bruise for weeks. He’s got himself so far inside Eggsy that Eggsy thinks he can actually feel him at the back of his throat, hot and heavy, stretching him out in a way that’s come to be familiar over the past few months. He scrabbles at the cold granite of the sink, fingernails failing to find purchase as he tilts his face, pressing his cheek against the surface. The chill feels like a balm against the heat of his cheek, and he lets out another groan. 

“I _am_ fucking you as hard as I can,” David manages to grunt out, dragging his teeth over the back of Eggsy’s neck, the scrape rough. He likes to bite, as Eggsy’s found out, over every inch of his skin possible. It sets each of Eggsy’s nerves alight, his skin on fire from just the slightest press of David’s teeth. “You’re insatiable-”

“Less talking, more fucking,” Eggsy commands, hiding a grin into his forearm at David’s frustrated, bitten off curse. The slow drag of David’s cock inside of him feels like a revelation and a curse all in one, spreading him open and making him feel as if he’s not even in the bathroom anymore- he’s been transported, just by the feel of David knowing him more intimately than he’s allowed anyone else to feel. No one’s seen this side of him before- spread out on a fucking bathroom sink at work, gasping and utterly gagging for it. If he’d been in more control of his senses he’d be ashamed of himself, but that’s the other funny thing about David- he made him lose it all and not regret it, every single time. 

True to his command, David increases the pace of his thrusts and Eggsy’s unable to stop himself from whimpering when his hips are shoved into the hard jut of the bathroom sink, the pain somehow translating into pleasure and making everything appear in technicolor. David’s making these absolutely beautiful noises, mouthing sloppily down the side of Eggsy’s neck while a low moan resounds so close to Eggsy’s ear it’s all that he can listen and register. He’s losing control of his thoughts and his tongue, pleasure and arousal and a million other things swirling inside of him into a tornado, growing bigger and bigger until he shuts his eyes, whines, “_Oh_\- David, I love you,” and comes.

He thinks he blacks out for a while because when he opens his eyes again, David’s already come inside of him. He’s silent and unmoving- unnaturally so, and they’ve done this enough times for Eggsy to know what David’s like post orgasm. They stare at each other for a while, David in clear flabbergasted shock and Eggsy in bewilderment until he abruptly realises what he’d said, and blinks fiercely in embarrassment.

David slowly pulls out from him, grabbing a few tissues from the side and cleaning them both up. Their sex may be absolutely rough, rushed and desperate but David takes care of him every single time afterwards, cleaning him up in the softest and most aching of ways. It makes Eggsy’s throat sore and heart full with want when David gathers him in his arms, murmurs to him to hold still as he cleans him up, touch soft and gentle as anything. 

He’s probably lost all of that, he thinks, with his stupid, _fucking _loose mouth. 

When David’s done and he’s zipped his trousers back up, they both stare at each other again, before the door to the bathroom flies open. Eggsy jumps about a foot in the air as Gawain stomps in, announcing, “Why the hell was the door locked? Took me five minutes to try and force it open!” before going to the nearest urinal.

“David,” Eggsy says softly. He doesn’t know what the hell he’s going to say- sorry for being a blabbering idiot? Sorry for running his stupid fucking mouth? David talks over him anyway, eyes overly bright as he cuts in with an overt and loud, “I’ll see you at the briefing then, Egg- Galahad!” before pushing past him and leaving. Eggsy lets him leave, staring at the closed doors of the stalls with his fists clenched and throat just as sore as his arse. 

Right. _This_ is why he hates having sex in bathrooms. 

*

“He looks cute,” Roxy comments, as they lean over the balcony. 

“If you’re into the brooding type,” Eggsy snorts, swilling his Dr Pepper around. If Harry ever found out he’d smuggled a soft drink on Kingsman grounds, he might actually have a conniption. For some strange reason, Harry’s always had a thing against soft drinks.

“And are you not into the gruff, silent type? The kind who’d chop down trees for you and load it all on his truck?” Roxy teases, elbowing him in the gut, almost making him spill the Dr Pepper in the process. He moves it out of the way, glaring at her. 

“Lay off the Mel Gibson, Roxalot,” Eggsy retorts, ignoring her protest of _“Hey!”_ “I’ll have you know I’m not that easily won over.” Both of them peer down again at the tracks below and the single man traversing it. Shock of black hair with a white stripe at the front, jaw coated with a light graze of stubble and eyes bluer than the sky on the sunniest of days- perhaps Eggsy can see why everyone’s all aflutter over the newest addition to the Kingsman. They’d just finished replenishing their agents after the Golden Circle fiasco, and the position of Kay had been last- taken up by the man below, doing sit ups in the lawn with a German Shepherd by his side. Ever since he’d joined, though, the techies have all been up in a tizz. He’s already been asked out five times- and turned down all of them too, the poor sods.

“Come on, are you saying you wouldn’t if you had the chance?” Roxy says teasingly. It had turned out that she hadn’t been as dead as initial reports after the blast orchestrated by Poppy had suggested- she’d simply been trapped beneath rubble, making it out a few hours later and hightailing it to one of their unregistered Kingsman safe houses. She’d survived the disaster with a burn on her neck, a scorched red thing that she’d used to get laid with adoring, awe struck girls more than once. 

“Maybe,” Eggsy allows, watching as Kay’s abs contract beneath his thin shirt, face red with exertion. As if on cue, Kay looks up and Eggsy instantly leans back, clutching the Dr Pepper to his chest. 

“Shit,” he hisses, leaning as far back as possible, “do you think he saw me?” 

“No, he just saw someone jumping back like an idiot,” Roxy snorts, before looking down again. Ignoring Eggsy’s furious gestures for her to shut up, she raises her hand and waves. “You’re in good form, Kay!” 

“Stop waving to him!” Eggsy hisses, and then nearly jumps at a third voice behind them. “Just _what_ are you both doing here?”

It’s Merlin, wheeling himself towards them with a glare on his face. Merlin had been able to escape the fiasco of the Golden circle as well only he hadn’t been as lucky as Roxy, with the blast taking off his legs. He had good days and bad days, and Eggsy’s able to tell generally which the bad days were. This very much seemed like a bad day.

“Enjoying the scenery,” Roxy says truthfully. At Merlin’s glare deepening, she adds, “also spying on the new agent. Come on, Merlin-”

“Don’t _come on Merlin _me, aren’t you supposed to be helping the tech team out with testing the new prototype ten minutes ago?” Merlin snaps. 

At his words, Roxy frowns, tapping on the side of her glasses before hissing out under her breath. “Shit, I didn’t realise- I’ll catch up with you later, Eggs.” And then she’s gone, sprinting past a stormy Merlin and down the hallway. Eggsy almost envies her, a little- what he wouldn’t give to test out a fun new gadget for the techies instead of handling a clearly grumpy Merlin with kid gloves.

“You,” Merlin snaps, and Eggsy jumps. “I need to inform you that there’s a mission briefing tomorrow, you and Kay. And is that a Dr Pepper? Harry won’t be pleased.”

“Not if he never finds out,” Eggsy says reflexively, clutching the can closer before he registers Merlin’s words. “Aw, come on- you’re saddling me with a fucking rookie?” 

“A rookie who you once were,” Merlin points out, as he turns the wheelchair around. Eggsy trots after him obligingly as they amble down the hallway, their pace slow and steady. “I want him settled in with no issues at all.” 

“So you turned to me, knowing I’m your best at getting people to feel welcome,” Eggsy says, beaming. 

“No, because I knew saddling him with you was the best way to throw him into the deep end, head first,” Merlin says dryly, ignoring his offended shout of_ “Merlin!” _“Kay has the potential to be the best this agency has ever seen-”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Eggsy snorts, pausing outside of Merlin’s office where Merlin’s taken him. Where before it had been barren, empty save for the spare monitors, it’s now full of odd trinkets and pictures. One of Eggsy, Roxy and him, another of his and Harry’s wedding day all those years ago, and yet another one of him in his youth with a puppy in his arms. Eggsy’s asked before about the change of heart, but all he’d gotten out of him was a sardonic, “didn’t know it was a crime to keep family photographs.”

“Jokes aside, Galahad,” Merlin says, tone suddenly somber and causing Eggsy to look down in surprise, “You are also the best this agency has to offer. I hope you’ll make his transition to a Kingsman agent comfortable, especially from what he was before.”

“What was he before?” Eggsy asks, intrigued. In addition to turning down interested techies Kay has also largely kept to himself- affecting the manner of someone silent and stoic. Eggsy and Roxy have been trying to coax him out of his shell to no avail, with him turning down their requests as well to go out to the pub with nothing but a strained smile and a “Rain check, I promise I’ll be there for the next one.” Eggsy would be more offended and immediately jump to the new Kay being a snob except that he’s been like that with everyone- he just wasn’t a sociable bloke. 

“It’s not my place to say anything,” Merlin says apologetically. “You know me, Galahad. I’m not a gossip rag.” 

“Carla from HR would beg to differ,” Eggsy snorts, and then yelps as Merlin abruptly shuts the door of the office in his face.

*

It’s definitely not an emergency by any means, so Eggsy’s very much taken aback by Roxy barging in through the door of the coffeeshop, hair askew and jacket inside out. “Holy shit,” he exclaims, as she dashes over, eyes wild. The family at the next table over is wide eyed, staring at the scar on her neck. “What’s the rush?”

“What’s the- what’s the _rush_, he asks me,” Roxy hisses, seating herself opposite him. “What happened? All I got was a cryptic sounding text, I was so fucking-”

It is then that it dawns on Eggsy that perhaps texting his international spy of a best friend _please come over, quick, coffeeshop opposite stanhope mews_ may not have been the best way to communicate things across. He winces, covering her hand with his. “No, no emergency, nothing like that,” he hastens to say, and she blows out a breath of relief. “World isn’t ending?” she asks.

“World isn’t ending,” Eggsy confirms. Roxy shrugs off her jacket, looking significantly calmer as she pats down her hair. 

“Why the hell did you text me then?” she asks, incredulous. The family over is still staring, and so she lowers her voice, leaning over the table. “I mean- what’s wrong?” 

“Is there anything wrong with just having a drink with my best mate?” At Roxy’s glare, Eggsy sinks down his seat, folding his arms and staring at the now cold coffee in front of him. If he thinks hard enough, he can still dredge up the memory of David’s face over his in the mirror, that look of perfect shock on that gorgeous face of his. It’s not an altogether pleasant memory. 

“I have all day,” Roxy says pointedly, tugging Eggsy’s coffee towards her and taking a sip. “Start talking, Eggs.” 

“It’s nothing, honestly-”

“Eggsy, you wouldn’t call me all the way here if it wasn’t an issue,” Roxy says patiently. She’s silent for a while, peering at Eggsy in a careful sort of scrutiny that leaves Eggsy sweating a little, before saying, “it’s David, isn’t it?” 

“Dav- how the fuck did you know?” Eggsy yelps, straightening up even more. He and David, they’d been so under the radar, he’d been _so_ sure-

“Oh give it up, at least half of us know,” Roxy says, no small amount of disgust in her voice. “Jesus, Eggsy, do you take all of us for idiots? Both of you have been spending a lot of time together and he’s been way more open ever since he went on that mission with you. Word gets around, you know how Kingsman is.”

“Right,” Eggsy says, shaking his head in disbelief. God knows he’s joked about- and even participated in- the huge gossip grapevine existent story at Kingsman but this is the first time he’s found himself a target of it. The feeling is akin to the one of looking down a gun barrel. “Yes, it’s about David. We’ve been-” friends for benefits? Fuckbuddies? Boinking mates- that’s the worst one, how did he even think of that? “-close, kinda. And now I’ve ruined it all with me big mouth.” 

“Can’t have been that bad,” Roxy says reasonably, her gaze kind and understanding. “I’ve said my fair share of stupid shit to my own girlfriends. What did you say?” 

“Told him I was in love with him,” Eggsy says miserably, and to make things worse, feels his own eyes grow alarmingly sore. He blinks rapidly to keep the tears away, to no avail- they pour down his cheeks and he sniffles, humiliated and unable to stop the downpour. 

“Oh, Eggsy, you didn’t,” Roxy says sadly, grabbing a packet of tissues out of the pocket of her jacket and passing it to him. He grabs them gratefully, murmuring his thanks and dabbing his eyes with them. The family at the next table over is still looking and he feels the urge to flip the v’s at them.

“The worst is it’s true,” Eggsy sobs, hiccuping slightly. It had been a truth he’d been unable to deny to himself- he was in proper, head over heels, arse over foot love with David, with the way the man talked, walked, ate, fucked, breathed. It had been gradual, creeping on Eggsy until he’d realised, startlingly, exactly how deeply in love he was with him. “He’s- I mean, I don’t even know how it happened. That prick made me fall in love with him.”

“You know how these things just happen,” Roxy says sympathetically. “How did he respond?” 

“Not well,” Eggsy admits, and then nods to his phone. “I- I told him yesterday. He hasn’t replied to any of my calls or messages.” He’d agonised over every single one of his messages to David, starting with _a can we talk, please let’s talk_ and ending with a _look, forget what I said_. He’d sent only five texts and even then had thrown his phone halfway across the room, convinced that if David hadn’t been scared off before, he would be now. They had just been- they had just been_ friends_. Mates with advantages thrown him. Best friends who, on occasion- on a lot of occasions, actually, bordering on nigh on constant- fucked each other blind. What had he been _thinking_? 

“If he can’t get his head out of his arse and realise the absolute gem he has within his grasp, fuck him,” Roxy says firmly, scowl affixed on her face. She seems like she’s blowing up, gathering righteous rage within herself and Eggsy shakes his head. “No, Roxy-” he sighs, swilling the remaining bit of coffee within his cup around. “Look, it’s not his fault, is it? Sometimes you fall in love with people who don’t love you back. I shouldn’t have- I ruined our friendship, I shouldn’t have said that shit.” 

“Then it would have eaten you up from the inside,” Roxy says gently. “Better to let it all out in the open.” She looks at him for a while and sighs, sort of pitying, and Eggsy switches his gaze to the cup of coffee. It is agonising, being in love and yearning for the sort of connection that someone is unwilling to return. What is even more agonising, though, is being showered sympathy for that unrequited love- as if he deserves a gold medal for living through the pain of knowing he has no place within the heart of someone who’s carved a place of their own out within his. 

“Come on, Eggs,” Roxy says finally, a determined tint to her voice. “No point to wallowing here, is there? I bet the cinema’s still screening that Mamma Mia sequel you wanted to watch.” 

When they leave the cinema three hours later, Roxy waxing poetic about Christine Baranski in increasingly graphic ways that makes the lady next to them walk a tad bit faster, his phone vibrates in his pocket. Fishing it out, he stares at the single text message before pocketing it again, grinning widely.

_Sorry, was caught up in something. Talk tomorrow, gun range at HQ? _

*

The mission is to go to a gala hosted by the Ukrainian embassy and steal back a flash drive containing sensitive intel from a hacker hell bent on starting the third world war. Harry lays out the details of their mission for them, how Eggsy will be in charge of making contact with the hacker and taking the flash drive, Kay on lookout in case things went sour. Kay, Eggsy realises, is a blank slate- he doesn’t let on what he’s feeling about his very first mission and it makes Eggsy uneasy. 

“So,” Eggsy says, leaning towards Kay as they’re driven to the gala, “feel nervous?”

“Not really, no,” Kay says dryly. “Don’t worry, Galahad. I’ll get you out if things go south.” His words are precise, to the point and bitten off. 

“I wasn’t-” Eggsy sighs, letting his words trail off. He sits back in his seat, aware of Kay eyeing him curiously. God forbid he try to make small talk with the agency’s new recluse. 

“Actually,” Kay says suddenly, making Eggsy look over at him, “I’m sort of- afraid. I don’t want to mess it up.” He’s looking out of the window, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Eggsy but there’s a tightness to his neck and jaw that suggest there’s a kernel of truth to his words. 

“You won’t,” Eggsy says confidently. “Merlin has faith in you. He has a lot of faith in you, actually.” It reminds him a little of how he and Harry used to be. He’s not sure if Harry has the same amount of faith in him anymore, not after that life look of disappointment in his eyes when Eggsy had told him that marriage hadn’t worked out with Tilde after all. He’d disappointed a lot of people with that particular fiasco but somehow, seeing it come from Harry of all people had been like a stab in the neck. 

“Reminding me that a man I look up to is expecting me to do well in this mission, that’s absolutely making me feel better,” Kay says, but there’s a slight smile to his lips, now. It makes the blue of his eyes shine in a way that arrests Eggsy’s heart and he has to swallow, looking away. _God,_ but was Kay absolutely far too dangerous for him to handle. 

“Who knew you had jokes in you,” Eggsy says, nudging his ankle with his foot. Kay grins back at him this time, and Eggsy momentarily loses his train of thought until the car jerks to a stop. “We’re here,” Eggsy announces, peeking out the window. “Game face on, lads.” He catches Kay mouthing the words to himself in disbelief, a slightly awestruck expression on his face, and smirks to himself.

The mission goes off without a hitch. Kay is incredible, a steady guard at Eggsy’s back while he’s able to successfully nick the flash drive off the hacker’s person. They’re out of there in two hours tops, handing the drive over to Dagonet who’s driving the car and being told to be at HQ the next morning at ten am for a debriefing.

“We have a bit of time,” Eggsy says, nudging Kay in the side after the cab dumps them on the street at Stanhope Mews. “Wanna head to the pub?”

Kay looks unsure. “I don’t know-”

“Come on, Kay, live a little,” Eggsy insists, tugging on his arm. His arm, which is surprisingly muscular beneath the cloth of his suit, all corded muscle and hard veins- Eggsy swallows in his far too dry throat, letting go of him. This, he thinks, is honestly starting to get ridiculous- it hasn’t been _that_ long since he’s gotten laid. “I know the perfect place.”

The pub he selects is a locale on the street down from Harry’s house that had been bequeathed to him, managed by a genial man with a shock of white hair and a smile. He’d started going right after the mess with Valentine, and then stayed for a few days after the divorce had been finalised. Embarrassingly enough, the staff knows him by name- it tends to happen when you choose to drink your sorrows away with alcohol. 

Evidently, Kay’s cottoned on to that little fact too. “You come here pretty often, huh?” Kay says, shrugging off his suit jacket before sliding into the booth. Beneath it his starched white oxford shirt presses to the planes of his torso, slick and fit, and Eggsy finds himself having to practically tear his gaze away. It’s aggravating, how casually handsome Kay is. And then he registers Kay’s question.

“No, I don’t- I don’t come here often, I’m not a fucking alcoholic,” Eggsy says, but before he can continue Kay’s snorting, shaking his head. “I’ve used alcohol to ignore my own problems plenty of times, Galahad,” Kay explains. “I’m- not unfamiliar with that particular strategy of coping.” His eyes are haunted, dark and Eggsy remembers Merlin’s words from earlier. How he’d wanted Kay taken care of, considering what had apparently happened to him before. 

“Eggsy,” Eggsy says, finally, nodding a thank you to the waiter who places two pints of beer in front of both of them.

“Pardon?”

“Call me Eggsy,” Eggsy says, grinning lightly. “Ain’t no one calling me Eggsy in a fuckin pub. We’re not in HQ anymore.” 

Kay’s look is considering as he takes a sip of his beer, quiet. Eggsy’s just starting to wonder if he has overstepped when he says, “David Budd. What you can call me, I mean.” 

Eggsy bites his lip, turning the name over on his tongue. Kay’s watching him, his gaze piercing and slightly clouded- Eggsy can’t read him, not at all. He’s sort of shit at that, anyway. God knows he can’t read any room to save his life. “David,” he says aloud. “Boring name, you know.” 

David breaks into a grin so wide the whites of his teeth show, laughing a little. “Indeed,” he says. “It’s not bad, though- not like Eggsy.”

“Eggsy’s not a bad name, you take that back,” Eggsy retorts immediately but he’s unable to stop himself from laughing as well. When David laughs the side of his eyes crinkle, his cheeks pinking, and the back of Eggsy’s neck heats up, Pavlovian.

It’s terrifyingly easy, being with David. He’s gruff and at times, quiet- he doesn’t really do anything to move the conversation along and his eyes feel far too piercing, like a microscope Eggsy’s at the end of. And yet it’s far easier talking to him and staying in his presence than it ever had been with Tilde. Eggsy feels like laying it all out in front of him, detailing every single one of his thoughts and feelings and emotions and letting David privy to his innermost soul. It’s only by some trick of will that he keeps his jaw locked, determined not to embarrass himself. 

They get drunker and drunker over the evening until they’re stumbling back to Eggsy’s apartment, David swaying on the front porch as Eggsy fumbles with his keys. “Do- do you wanna c’me in?” Eggsy asks, slurring slightly. 

David hesitates, eyes dark. The jacket hangs open, the top two buttons undone and the dark curls of the hair on his chest peek through, an invitation. Eggsy feels his mouth water, as he leans his back against the door. He wants so many things, with David, the moon hanging low in the night sky like a premonition. He wants to _do_ so many things to David. 

“I don’t know,” David says haltingly. “If I should-” he lets his words trail off. Even drunk out of his mind, Eggsy thinks irritably, he’s still speaking perfect English, the Scottish in him standing out like a red hot brand.

“Don’t be a fuckin’ pussy, Kay,” Eggsy says, and twisting his arm behind his back, turns the doorknob. It swings open and Eggsy looks up at David from beneath his eyelashes, in a manner he knows drives both men and women wild. David will not be an exception. “I’m tellin’ you to come in.” 

David swallows, the pupils of his eyes dilating. Infuriatingly gorgeous, he steps closer and closer, until he’s almost nose to nose with Eggsy. This close, Eggsy can count the silver specks within his eyes, numerous and beautiful. 

“We’re drunk,” David murmurs, ever the voice of reason. “We’re going to regret this.”

“We won’t,” Eggsy says assuredly, confidently, and grabbing on the lapels of David’s jacket, yanks him in. 

*

The gun range is completely empty when Eggsy heads there, save for David who’s on one of the benches, turning something over in his hands. His hair is ruffled, the top two buttons of his shirt yet again popped open and throwing his collarbone into sharp relief. Eggsy coughs loudly, announcing his presence, causing David to startle and sit up immediately, shoving whatever it had been into his pocket. “Eggsy,” he says breathlessly, standing up. The underside of his eyes are smudged lightly, as if he hasn’t gotten a good night’s sleep. Eggsy’s familiar with the feeling.

“Hey,” Eggsy says softly, wringing his hands behind his back. That’s the problem with wearing suits all day to work- there’s no place to nervously shove your hands, eager to hide how bitten in the nails are from apprehension. Eggsy can’t stand around hunched over with his hands in his pockets, not with the suit making him feel like he’s got to be a James Bond type twenty-four seven. Sometimes, it’s empowering- other times, like now, it’s exhausting. “You wanted to talk?”

“What you said, I don’t-,” David blurts out, and then stops mid way, squeezing his eyes shut as if in regret. Eggsy keeps his own wide open, the words not landing like a sledgehammer but like raindrops, light on his skin but definitely still felt.

“That’s fine,” Eggsy says lightly, trying to hide how very much the words revolve around in his own head, a spinning tornado that grows worse and worse. “Honestly, David, it’s okay-”

“We were fine before,” David begs, suddenly, and lunging forward, grabs ahold of Eggsy’s hands. Eggsy feels the visceral need to tug them out of his grasp and so he does, feeling something inside of himself break into pieces. “Weren’t we? We were- it was all going perfect, Eggsy. Just as friends.” 

“I didn’t _want_ to stay friends with fucking- advantages thrown in,” Eggsy says disbelievingly. “It was bound to happen, I just-”

“Bound to happen? Eggsy, you didn’t have to _ruin _everything,” David says, voice clipped and harsh. He steps back, arms crossed over his chest and a stone like look settled over his face. And god help Eggsy, but he still looked like everything he’d ever wanted to get his hands on and cherish. “I was- it can’t happen, _we_ can’t happen.”

“Why not?” Eggsy asks, petulant. He swallows, the lump in his throat growing wider by the second as David snorts harshly, looking away. 

“Because we’re colleagues,” David says flatly, waving his hand in between them. People who’d spent the better part of two months together, spending every second possible in the company of the other- reduced to colleagues. It tastes sour on Eggsy’s tongue. “You know, we are _agents-”_

“You’re saying this like Merlin and Harry aren’t married,” Eggsy retorts. “I’ve _seen _the way you fuckin’ look at me. You ain’t as smooth as you fuckin’ think.” His old accent comes out when he’s upset, he’s been told before by Harry and he sure feels fucking upset now. It’s one thing to know you’ll never be good enough. That’s a truth Eggsy’s made his peace with, kept locked tight within himself and in his private treasure chest of flaws. He’s made self-flagellation into a fine art and he’s fine with it, _he’s fine. _But it’s another thing altogether to be told that, to be told you’ll never be good enough for the one person you would have changed everything about yourself for, even the things you were born with.

David looks away, pursing his lips in anger. The range is empty, but suddenly it feels bone-chillingly cold- Eggsy would like nothing more than to leave. “I know,” David says, “but I just don’t think-”

“Don’t say it,” Eggsy says, almost begging.

“We won’t be good for each other,” David says softly. He reaches for Eggsy, and stops when Eggsy flinches back, the expression on his face torn. He had no right looking like that, not when he had Eggsy’s heart in his hands and was crushing it into fine pieces.

“We were good before,” Eggsy pleads. “Weren’t we?” He’s not crying, by some miracle. Perhaps the yawning chasm of misery within his ribcage has gotten so permissible and wide it has eclipsed his ability to cry.

“You didn’t love me before,” David says steadily.

*

Eggsy wakes up in the morning, naked beneath the sheets and a heavy arm trapping him to an equally heavy body, and thinks, _shit. _

He’s familiar with this specific part of any hangover post a particularly wild night- entire body a bruise, head pounding like it’s competing for some marathon, his skin slick with dried up sweat and come that feels absolutely disgusting. He sits up, the blanket falling to his lap, and stares ahead.

The piece of art that Ginger had given him as a wedding gift, that he’d hung on the room of his bedroom and promptly forgotten about is on the floor, the frame broken. He has a vague memory of slamming David on the space beside it, dropping to his knees and unzipping David’s trousers with his teeth. _Jesus. _

He looks beside him and notices David still asleep, lashes casting a dark shadow over the top of his perfect cheekbones. The blankets have slipped to just below his pectorals and he looks like he’s been fucking mauled by a bear, large splotches of red over his neck and collarbone. Eggsy winces, remembering how that had appeared due to him gnashing his teeth in, holding on for dear life as each of David’s thrusts had shoved him further and further up against the bed.

As if on cue, David’s eyes open.

“Um,” Eggsy says, flummoxed. David stares back at him. “Hi.”

David clears his throat, the top of his cheeks a light pink. For a hungover guy, he sure cottoned on fast enough. “Whassatime?”

“Nine,” Eggsy says. “If we hurry fast enough, we can make it for debriefing. There’s a spare shower in the guest bedroom, down the hall.” David sits up, running a hand through his hair and causing the blanket to fall to his hips. Various other bruises litter the entirety of his torso, and Eggsy has to clench his jaw to keep it from falling open. Memories are slowly trickling back to him- one of them being him shoving David onto the bed, biting his way down his body until he had then proceeded to swallow his cock. Had he really been _that _much of an animal last night?

“Thank you,” David says, his eyes still unreadable. It’s aggravating in how much it matters- Eggsy doesn’t usually care this much cared what people think of him. For every rich toff in a poncy suit he had a witty remark on the tip of his tongue, skin turned to steel. In the wake of the memory of David mouthing his way down his spine, his fists clenched in the sheets, those defenses have turned to dust.

David gets up from the bed, completely naked as he bends over to pick his clothes up. He’s fucking fit, fitter than anyone Eggsy’s ever gotten with. Merlin had told him to look after his protégé, and he’d gone and fucked him. Eggsy closes his eyes defeatedly.

“Nice house, by the way,” David says, and when Eggsy’s opened them he sees David standing there in just his trousers, shirt in hand and a grin on his face.

“It’s just a one time thing,” he blurts out, and winces when David’s grin falters. “I mean- it’s not-”

“No, I get it,” David says hastily. “It was not- we were really drunk.” He walks over to the door, twisting the knob open and ducking through it. The door falls gently close behind him, and Eggsy flops back on his bed, muffling a groan with his hand.

They make it ten minutes late to debriefing, David smelling like Eggsy’s shampoo. Harry doesn’t comment on their tardiness, although he does raise an eyebrow at Eggsy. It’s hell to even attempt to pay attention to Harry droning on about the hacker- Eggsy’s hyper aware of David, his skin sharp and sensitive to the way in which David shifts on his seat, collar slipping down to expose a green bruise covering the dip between his collarbones. At the halfway mark his gaze drifts back to David, pulled by an unseen force, to catch David looking away hurriedly, a dull flush covering his neck.

When the debriefing’s over, David’s out of the door like a shot, dull flush still on his neck. Eggsy keeps his gaze on the screen hosted on the wall, avoiding Harry’s gaze. Try as he might, he can’t ignore the urge that’s been lit within the pit of his stomach to follow that flush with his tongue, see how far it goes.

“Is everything alright between you two?” Harry asks, shuffling the papers in front of him. Eggsy, standing up, nods jerkily.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know,” Harry says hesitantly, twisting the wedding ring around his index finger. He and Merlin had gotten married shortly after the disaster with Poppy and the golden circle, a very adorable ceremony with Daisy as the flower girl. Eggsy had managed to ruin it only marginally by informing Harry at the reception that he and Tilde had finalized the divorce papers, both of them realizing it wasn’t going to work out two months in. Harry had been the first person he’d told about that particular mess, because more than anything Harry’s become the sort of confidant to him only fathers became. He can’t ever tell him that, but he thinks Harry knows anyway, and rather hoards that fact like a piece of silver, to be kept carefully and guarded. “You two seemed to be-”

“It’s fine,” Eggsy says stiffly. “We’re swell.”

When he leaves the room, David’s waiting for him just like he’d expected. They walk in tandem until Eggsy gestures towards an abandoned office. He jimmies the lock open, grinning to himself at David’s softly uttered curse, and pries it open. In half a second flat David has him pinned against the door, hands hurriedly undoing his zipper as he fights to get David’s suit jacket off. David kisses not like a gentleman but like a ruffian, completely untamed. Eggsy would have never guessed that behind that quiet exterior would be someone so utterly wild and unrestrained.

David leaves his lips, pressing his mouth in hot, open kisses against his throat and looking up at the ceiling, worming his hands down the front of David’s trousers, Eggsy pants, “So this isn’t going to be a one-time thing, I gather.”

“No,” David agrees, scraping his teeth over the jut of Eggsy’s collarbone. “It is not.”

David’s tearing his jacket and trousers off, and soon he has two fingers slicked with saliva up Eggsy’s arse, thrusting against him in a manner that makes his toes curl. He, in return, curls his leg around David’s waist and does his best to jack David off, the memories from last night fading but still precise. His head’s pounding as a slight remnant of the hangover but he’s gasping in David’s ear anyway, heartrate skyrocketing from pleasure and arousal. They’ve been fucking for less than a day and David already knows how to play him like a fiddle, which areas make him whine and gasp and shudder. It’s horrifying, really- he’s fallen way off.

Five well-timed thrusts of his fingers and a harsh bite over his shoulder and Eggsy’s coming, white spots dancing in his vision as he hears David groan, coming all over his hand as well. They pant in the aftermath, sweaty and exhausted and most definitely shocked at the ferocity of the encounter.

“Right,” Eggsy says weakly. He lowers his leg from where it had been curled around David’s waist- like a proper harlot. What would Harry say? “So, uh-”

“You talk so much,” David groans. “You know that?”

Eggsy shuts up then, biting on his own tongue, but he’s unable to stop himself from grinning as David drops his forehead to rest against his neck, breathing heavily.

*

Merlin calls him in, about a week after the conversation with David in the gun range. That week had been a horrible week- he’d taken every measure possible to avoid David, going so far as to jumping out a window when he’d seen David approaching and ignoring Percival’s shout of alarm, with whom he’d been carrying on a rather lovely conversation about the new range of gadgets at the time. He knows he’s the hot conversation of the Kingsman rumour mill, judging by Roxy’s thinly veiled questions aimed at getting the most out of him as possible.

Eggsy doesn’t really care. He feels heartbroken, the entire world in monochrome as he goes through the motions. David’s words play over and over in his head- the upset in his voice, the way he’d rejected him. No one had told him how utterly painful unrequited love would feel- that it would be like half your ribcage was missing, that it would feel like you were walking around with an open wound bleeding raw and untreated, that it would hurt so much you’d feel as if you were on your own deathbed. He’s so exhausted of being unloved that it’s a dull, constant, fiery ache-throbbing with every step.

Merlin’s call is a surprise- it comes in when he’s at home after a mission, doing nothing but watching Golden Girls reruns in a pair of ratty boxers and his father’s old university sweatshirts he’d managed to nick from his mum’s. He heads in anyway, dressed in just a pair of jeans and a button-down oxford shirt. Dagonet doesn’t even glare at him when he walks in, only giving him a sort of sympathetic, _you poor fucking loser_ look. Eggsy must be flashing the news that he’s the world’s biggest idiot on his forehead.

“You wanted to see me,” Eggsy asks, opening the door to Merlin’s office slightly and popping his head in.

“Yes, I- what the hell are you wearing?” Merlin demands, adjusting his glasses. It’s not an unfair question, because Kingsman agents are usually required to come in dressed in suits, even on their days off. All the same, Eggsy bristles anyway.

“Clothes,” he deadpans, and when Merlin’s scowl deepens, sighs. “I’m off duty, Merlin.”

“That does not mean you get to dress like a-”

“A chav?” Eggsy snaps.

“A simpleton, Galahad,” Merlin emphasizes, raising his eyebrow. “I thought we were past that chip on your shoulder when we fought Poppy in the States.” There’s a confused, worried look in his eyes and Eggsy abruptly realizes exactly how pathetic he’s acting. He hasn’t acted this defensive since his first days at Kingsman. Swallowing, he slides into the seat opposite Merlin.

“Sorry,” Eggsy mutters. “I’ve been- not my best, lately.”

“That’s what I called you in for,” Merlin says gently. He takes off his glasses, folds them before setting them on the table and then fixes Eggsy with a dour look. “You haven’t been yourself, lately.”

“I’m fine,” Eggsy says flatly. “If you’re worried about me slipping as an agent-”

“No,” Merlin cuts in. “I’m asking after you as a concerned individual, and as your friend. Are you alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Eggsy asks roughly, not liking the direction where this is heading. He and Merlin, they don’t do this. They don’t ask after each other unless very much forced to, at risk of the entire world coming to an end. Merlin had very awkwardly lent him a shoulder once to cry on when they’d found out that Roxy was alive after all, and Eggsy had once lent him a listening ear when he’d gotten upset by the culmination of Kingsman being destroyed and his legs being gone. And that had been the end of it- they’re not the kind of men to have teary talks over pillow fights.

Merlin types away at the computer for a second, before exhaling, rubbing his fingers over the bridge of his nose. “The notes from the Madrid mission this week,” Merlin says slowly.

“What about them?” That mission had been a disaster. Eggsy had gambled, and it had paid off with Morgana screaming bloody murder in his ear- but it had also ended up with Eggsy in the medical wing, a long gash up his thigh that had run the risk of being infected. There were times, when Eggsy had fooled himself into thinking he could smell David’s typical pinewood and lemongrass scent in the air. He had always opened his eyes to the wing empty, the chair behind his bed empty.

“You disobeyed direct orders and went chasing after the target,” Merlin elaborates, fixing Eggsy with a severe look. “It’s not like you to do that.”

“I had an opening, I took it,” Eggsy says shortly. “I didn’t realise it was illegal to act on my instincts.”

“No, it is not,” Merlin allows. There’s a slight slump to the set of his shoulders, as if he’s known he’s lost whatever fight they were having. Eggsy would feel worse about it, except that there’s an itch beneath the skin of his shoulders, causing his heart to race. The urge to get out of the office has lit a fire in his belly and he can’t focus on anything else. “So you won’t object to me sending Kay on a month long undercover mission in Budapest?”

Eggsy freezes. “Budapest?”

“Yes,” Merlin says, leaning back in his chair. “There’s a gang- you don’t need to know the details, but Tristan has the sort of experience we need. We’re sending him in. Unless you have any objections?”

Eggsy swallows. “No,” he says. “In fact, Kay is more than fit for the mission. If I may be dismissed?”

Merlin sighs, full of disappointment. “You may.”

Its about an hour later when Eggsy’s heading home in one of the Kingsman mandated vehicles that his phone buzzes repeatedly. He slides it out of his pocket, checking the name. _David, _it announces in blaring letters. When he’d first gotten his number it had been _Kay Kingsman Tailors. _When they’d started hanging out, it had changed to _David Budd. _Two weeks ago, he’d deleted the surname and added a couple of flowers and hearts to the end of his name. When David had seen the contact and the dozen emojis beside it, he’d emitted this sort of snort-giggle that Eggsy found weirdly adorable. 

He shuts the call off, and keeps driving.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> please heed these warnings!
> 
> tw for mention of forced prostitution, date rape, roofie-ing, graphic violence

It is a mistake by which Eggsy discovers that David’s an insecure prick. Their relations, after all, are strictly kept to fucking and the thing that Eggsy comes to quickly realize is this- he’s really, _really_ addicted to fucking David. The man is extremely talented with his lips, fingers, tongue and very obviously, cock- it’s like he fucking swallowed the karma sutra or something. 

The addiction is terrible and pestering, mocking Eggsy in its intensity. They end up doing it literally everywhere- on the floor of the gym, the Kingsman loos, and on one memorable occasion, Merlin’s office after which David makes himself busy disinfecting the entire room while Eggsy hacks into the surveillance cameras and deletes any incriminating footage. 

Eggsy yanks him into the closet once, pulling his pants down and swallowing down his cock with absolutely no finesse, purely acting on his intent to make David come violently down his throat. David bends him over a table in one of the spare Kingsman offices, eats him out so roughly that he gets beard burn all over his arse and can’t sit properly for weeks. Eggsy ties David down to the chair in his own office, rides him for so achingly long David’s crying when he comes. David gets him alone on a weekend and fingers him for so many fucking hours, keeping him on the edge and bringing him back, that when he’s finally allowed to come he blacks out for five minutes. He ends up coming to with David on his phone, terrified and halfway through a conversation with a very confused EMT. It’s insane sex, but it’s also better sex than anything Eggsy’s ever had. 

The one rule they have, though, is that neither Eggsy nor David ever particularly talk about anything else other than their weird, sex infested friendship. It’s an unspoken rule but definitely mutually agreed on. Eggsy likes it like this, not feeling anything for David beyond a hot burning in his gut because of how fucking hot David is. It’s freeing, especially after the divorce with Tilde- not knowing a single thing about David, having his heart untethered, only using the part of his brain attached to his cock when it comes to the man. 

That all changes on the day Eggsy learns that David hoards his insecurities like how Harry loves to collect dead butterflies. 

The day starts out fine. There’s a round table conference meeting with all the agents and Eggsy’s punctual for once, which Merlin commends him on. David’s seated opposite him and they play footsie under the table the whole time, Eggsy nearly spraining his hamstring trying to slide his foot up the back of David’s calf. The meeting is insanely boring and Eggsy retains absolutely none of it, staring instead at the poorly covered up hickey on David’s neck. That, obviously, does not go unnoticed by Merlin who ends up clearing his throat loudly, cutting Harry off. 

“Meeting boring you, Galahad?” Merlin asks, eyes flashing.

“Not at all,” Eggsy quips. “I find talk of malfunctioning ties very exciting.” 

Harry raises his eyebrows at that but he carries on with the meeting. After it’s over, he calls for both Eggsy and David to hang back and then eyes both of them severely. “Since both of you were so _attentive_ during the meeting,” he says, as David flushes a dull red, “you can go on a stakeout. There’s a hideout south of the Churchill estates- we figure it’s being used as a front for drug trafficking.”

“Stakeout?” Eggsy whines. “Come on, it’s so b-”

“We’ll be there, sir. I promise,” David says hastily, stepping on Eggsy’s foot. The move does not go unnoticed by Harry or Merlin, and their gazes stay on their backs like sniper targets as they leave the room. 

Stakeout is mundanely boring. Stakeout is always boring, either way- all Eggsy does is sit in one spot, binge on potato chips, or stare aimlessly at a single spot where nothing happens. David, unsurprisingly, does not help the situation- he stays silent and focuses his gaze on the building, so eerily still Eggsy feels like poking him just to make sure he’s still alive. 

“You shouldn’t do that,” David says suddenly, making Eggsy almost spill everything in his taco. There had been a local vendor, and David had finished his in ten seconds flat. He frowns, trying to get a better grip on it. “Do what?” 

“Be that- easygoing, I don’t know,” David says exasperatedly, waving his hands around. He looks oddly tensed, jaw clenching in a way that makes it look like he’s this close to spraining his teeth, if that was a thing. “It’s just, how do you get away with it?”

Eggsy instantly knows what David’s very confusingly trying to get at. It’s a source of confusion for everybody, in all fairness- the first time he’d snapped back at Harry during a meeting, Gawain had knocked over the entire pitcher of water on the table from shock. They don’t make it a point of announcing how close they are and hence it ends up being quite a sight for first timers just getting used to Kingsman. 

Eggsy doesn’t care to be delicate with newcomers. He can’t dredge up any concern within himself, not when his focus is on being the best agent he can possibly be. And besides, Harry was like his pseudo father- if he didn’t josh him around a little, he’d lose his mind in the stiffness of Kingsman. But suddenly, with David, Eggsy finds himself caring. What if David saw him as a flippant agent now? As someone who didn’t care about the frivolities of inter-agency manners, or the courtesies of respecting your superiors? 

“I’m not a- I don’t _get away with it,” _Eggsy says, biting into his taco before setting it on the dashboard, making air quotes with his fingers. “Harry’s harder on me than anyone else. He proposed me as agent.” 

“But you’re so,” David waves his hand around, as Eggsy stares at him, “so _free_ around him. Merlin proposed me, but I’m not like that around him.” 

“You’re not like that around anybody,” Eggsy says brusquely, not sure if he should be feeling offended. He’s been told he’s brash, impolite, insubordinate by quite a few Kingsman agents. Hearing it from David, though, feels rather like taking a huge boulder to the chest. “You’re quiet, and shit.”

“Yes, but-” David sighs loudly, drumming his fingertips on the steering wheel. “Aren’t you afraid? Of stepping one toe too far across the line some day, of getting booted?” 

“I already got booted,” Eggsy says dryly. “I didn’t shoot the fucking dog. Then I got back in because I took down Richmond Valentine. That alter your perception of me summat? Make me less fuckable?” His tone’s sharp as he picks the taco back up with slightly more force than necessary, and he can feel David’s gaze bore into the side of his skull as he finishes off the taco, licking his fingers. 

“I’m sorry,” David says suddenly, his tone contrite. Eggsy looks at him and there he is- wide blue eyes, almost like a puppy. Eggsy can’t even be mad at him anymore. “I shouldn’t have said- you know how highly I think of you as an agent.” 

“I didn’t, really,” Eggsy says, but this time with a slight grin on his face. He sobers up, gazing at David intently before continuing, “you know, it’s not about how well you stay in line at Kingsman. Harry’s not that kinda boss.”

David scoffs loudly, the look in his eyes turning derisive. “It’s always about that, Eggsy,” he says, his jaw clenched yet again. He did that whenever he was upset, Eggsy realises. He’d have to correct that, as a Kingsman agent. Having your emotions show on your sleeve was a no-go. “The whole world works on that logic.” 

Eggsy opens his mouth to argue- that he’s plenty familiar with that form of thinking, thank you, and that Kingsman is many, many things, but not that- but David turns away, clearly unwilling to continue the conversation. 

The stakeout is a bust and at the end of it, Eggsy slaps the dashboard, sighing. “Back to my place, then?” 

“I don’t think-”

“Come on,” Eggsy pleads. Their conversation earlier had been somewhat amicable but it’s left him feeling raw, scraped, looking at David with new eyes. “Look- I’ll be going home by myself and you’ll be going home alone. This way, we each got company, yeah?” 

David gives him a small smile, corner of his lips twitching. “Can’t argue with that, I suppose.”

Eggsy cooks up a dinner for them as David stays on the phone with Merlin, giving his report on behalf of them both. Pushing the casserole into the oven he closes it, clicking the switch on before leaning against the entryway of the kitchen, listening to David speak. David’s not like he is with Eggsy when he’s talking to Merlin- there’s almost a strange, upright stiffness to him, in the clipped syllables of each of his words and how his intonation is perfect, posh and English- none of the Scottish evident. 

_The whole world works on that logic_, he’d said. What on earth had gone on in his previous job?

*

Eggsy storms in, not bothering to knock. Harry doesn’t deserve that courtesy, not today. “Where the _fuck_ is he? How could you have fucking lost him?”

“Hello, Galahad,” Harry says dryly, adjusting his glasses and peering up at him from where he’s seated. Not a hair out of place, the poncy prick. Eggsy feels like punching him. “Please, take a seat.”

“The fuck I will,” Eggsy snaps. His heart feels wild, beating on a plane only he can feel. It’s been like that ever since he’d gotten the message from a tearful Roxy- David has gone officially missing for 72 hours, since his last transmitted message to Merlin. “You couldn’t have- he trusted you! It was his first fucking undercover mission!”

“And we’re going to bring him back safely,” Harry says, arching an eyebrow. “Galahad-”

“Don’t Galahad me!” Eggsy shrieks. “What if- what if he’s-”

“Eggsy,” Harry says sharply, and that makes Eggsy look up in shock. “Calm down. Stop this nonsense at once- this is not the man I know.”

“What,” Eggsy hisses, “the _hell_ went wrong? Why did I have to hear this from Roxy? Why didn’t you tell me-”

“Why on earth would I be updating you?” Harry says incredulously. “Eggsy, you never asked if he was doing alright. I had no idea that you were so interested. I was under the impression you were only friends,” he adds, eyes flashing. 

The last line is like a douse of cold water, a shock to the system. Eggsy abruptly realises how he’s acting- like someone who’s just found out the sole reason for breathing was in danger, or even fucking dead. He swallows, stiffening almost immediately. “I apologise, sir.” he says stiffly. “I realise my actions were out of line. I merely wanted an update, as a concerned colleague.” 

“No, Eggsy, don’t-” Harry sighs, squeezing the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. He’s pale and tensed, the lines of his shoulder straining against his tux. He’s not the only one worried, and somehow that makes everything even worse. Eggsy would have much preferred it if Harry had told him he was overreacting. 

“What happened?” Eggsy asks again, quieter this time. He draws up a seat opposite Harry and sits down on it, running a hand through his hair. He can’t even remember the last time he’d taken a look at David- but god, he can still remember every single thing about him, how he’d tasted and laughed and talked in that low, gruff Scottish grunt of his. He’d bottled all of those things up and locked them in a secret corner of his brain the second David had rejected him, bringing it out to cherish on the nights he felt most alone. Never had he expected this outcome- that this might be all he would have left. 

“As you know, Merlin sent him on an undercover mission to Budapest. There’s a terrorist cell there, and Kay had brought them down in London, before-”

“Yes, the one where he got strapped to a bomb,” Eggsy says without thinking, and then at Harry’s arched eyebrow, flushes. “I- uh, googled.”

“Google,” Harry says flatly, eyebrow still arched. “Do you think of me as a complete buffoon, Eggsy?”

“The cell, Harry,” Eggsy prompts, still flushed and his cheeks heating up. He’d have to do better with preventing himself from slipping up about both of them. That’s what David would have preferred, anyway. 

“Kay’s last communication was with Merlin seventy-two hours ago. He’s supposed to check in once every twelve hours, and when he failed to do so Merlin checked the surveillance in the area he’d been in. No sign, and footage hasn’t revealed anything. We can most likely assume the terrorist cell found out his actual identity.” Harry pauses, drumming his fingers and staring at Eggsy intently. “Merlin’s trying to find a location on him as we speak. He’s going to be fine, Eggsy.”

“Yeah, what if he isn’t?” Eggsy demands, his voice breaking. “What if he’s fucking dead, what if-”

“They’ll keep him alive for a while because they need information and Merlin has never let me down before,” Harry says firmly, his voice hardening. “Pull yourself together, agent. This isn’t like you.”

Eggsy swallows roughly, bending forward and pressing his knuckles into his eyes til there are sharp pinpricks of pain that form at the back of his skull. He’s never felt like this before- this utterly broken and shattered just at the thought of losing someone. He’s lost people before but never has it turned his world like this, made every single breath anxious and painful, full at the thought of _what if? _What if he lost David forever? What if he can’t ever lay eyes on David again, talk to him about inane things only the two of them ever cared about? Feeling like this, he thinks, is a plague, crippling him and making him unable to think like a rational, coherent person. 

“I want to go on the rescue mission,” Eggsy mutters. 

“Absolutely not,” Harry barks. When Eggsy lowers his hands Harry glares back at him, face stern and eyes fierce. He wasn’t backing down- bully for him, because Eggsy hasn’t been so sure of anything in his life before. “You’re compromised, Galahad. I only send my agents if I’m one hundred per cent certain they’re going to make it back intact without fucking up the mission objective.”

“Have I let you down before?” Eggsy says insistently, leaning forward. “I’m one of the best you have, I took down Poppy _with _you-”

“I give you too much leeway in this agency if it’s gotten you acting like this now,” Harry says, eyes flashing as he leans back, every bit the dangerous Arthur. If this had been any other time, Eggsy would have immediately cowered. The thought of David’s life hanging in the balance pokes at the back of his mind, a constant open wound. “Stand down, Galahad, before I make you.”

“Arthur-”

“Dismissed,” Harry snaps, standing up. “My decision is final, Galahad. One more word, and you’ll be risking a suspension-”

_“I told him about what Dean did to me!”_ Eggsy screams, standing up as well. His heart’s pounding in his throat as Harry’s jaw falls open, staring at him with a gobsmacked look. He genuinely doesn’t know if he still even has his job anymore but god, he has to try. Eggsy swallows roughly, continuing, “The truth, all of it- we were sitting in that alcove on the left wing, you know the one with that stupid fucking painting of- of King James whatever. I told him everything, and then I told him about how I still c- I still can’t stomach- I’ve never told anyone that. You only know because you’re a fucking psycho who keeps records of everyone, but you wouldn’t have otherwise.”

Harry’s still staring at him. There’s a strange roaring in his ears, but he can’t stop the words from falling out of his mouth even if he really wanted to. “Please, Harry. I’m begging you, _please-_ let me go on the rescue mission.”

Harry’s lips thin. There’s a long few seconds of absolute silence, where both of them just stare at each other and Eggsy thinks he’s absolutely blown it, doomed to probably a month’s worth of suspension. Then Harry’s face softens as he says, “Alright, Eggsy. Do not make me regret it, understand?”

“Thank you,” Eggsy breathes. In the wake of Harry’s submission he suddenly feels awkward, hands and the small of his back clammy and pulse racing like he’d just been in a war. He turns to leave when Harry suddenly says, in a voice that sounds all too knowing, “If it had been Merlin, god knows I would have been just desperate.”

Eggsy freezes, his back to Harry. “He’s not like that to me,” he tells the doorknob. “What you and Merlin are to each other- he’s not that to me. He doesn’t- he won’t let me.” 

There’s another long silence on Harry’s end, and then he says, voice sorrowful, “Eggsy, my boy-”

Eggsy twists the doorknob and flees.

*

“Hey,” David says, startled, popping his head into the alcove. “I got your- whoa!”

Eggsy yanks him in, slamming him against the wall of the alcove. This close, Eggsy can count the amount of specks in his eyes- look at how far the dip between his collarbones go, how the curls on his chest peek through the gaps between the buttons of his shirt. It’s impossible, but he’s even more gorgeous to Eggsy now than he was before all of- this. Eggsy sends him a grin, shark-like, before ripping open his jacket and tearing it off of him. 

“Eggsy- Jesus, careful, Dagonet will have my head if any more of his clothes get torn,” David pants as Eggsy mouths sloppily down his neck, the careful angles of it rough and tensed beneath his tongue. David’s always tense, Eggsy’s come to realise- always on high alert, like he chugs a whole fucking bottle of Red Bull every morning. He drops to his knees, ignoring the two burst of pain that bloom when he does so. They’re not in their early twenties anymore, after all. 

“So this was just a booty call,” David says, as if asking for clarification. 

“Yes,” Eggsy says, working David’s trousers open. It’s locked tighter than a fucking chastity belt and for a second, Eggsy considers writing a very strongly worded email to Dagonet requesting him to place less buttons on the things. “Help me get this open, for the love of god.”

“You’re in a rush,” David comments as he undoes his belt, tugging the zip down. David should look ridiculous, trousers in a pool around his ankles with his shirt open and jacket in a heap on the floor. Instead he makes Eggsy feel out of his mind with how much he wants David to shove his cock down his throat. “You know, we can take this slow-”

“I want you to fuck my mouth with this,” Eggsy says, pulling his boxers down before getting a hand around him. “Then I want you to fuck my arse with it.”

“Jesus, what has _gotten _into you?” David yelps, his sentence ending in a gasp when Eggsy swallows him down. David- to Eggsy, at least- is fucking hung, cock resting heavy on his tongue like a revelation, something to be treasured in the moment. He presses David’s hips to the wall behind him, bobbing his head and cherishing the way David’s hands grasp in his hair, pulling so hard there’s tiny pinpricks of pain in his skull. When it’s like this, David’s hips snapping into his hand and his head forced back, he can almost ignore the voice in his head. 

It’s not long before David’s pulling him off, tugging him up. “I was going to come,” he pants, placing frantic kisses all over his face, down his neck. “That would have been unwise.”

“What if I’d wanted you to come?” Eggsy demands, letting David’s keen hands push his jacket off his shoulders, unbutton his trousers and shove it down. He’d been so desperate to get a taste of David, make him come undone with his tongue and fingers and mouth that he hadn’t even taken the time to undress himself. It’s a shocking lapse of concentration- one he doesn’t want to consider the implications of, not today.  
  
  


David makes a strangled, choking sort of noise, brushing his nose gently down his throat. Eggsy doesn’t want gentle, though, Eggsy wants David to grab him by the throat and shove him face first into the wall, press down on his hips and make him see nothing but stars. “You’re dangerous, you know that? You’re so fucking _dangerous _for me.”  
  
  


“You like it, though?” Eggsy says, uncertain all of a sudden. David’s straightening up and there’s a soft look in his eyes, almost achingly soft. He brushes a hand over Eggsy’s cheek, using his thumb to wipe at a drop of sweat. It’s sweet and suddenly, Eggsy feels exhausted and sore to the bone. “Yes,” David whispers. “God help me, but I do.”

He has to balance the scales somehow- he can’t have David look at him like this, not today of all days. “Then fucking fuck me properly, eh?” Eggsy snaps, making sure to let a bit of irritation seep back into his voice. “Fucking handling me like I’m a damn virgin or something-”  
  
  


“That you’re definitely not,” David says dryly, before continuing to kiss down Eggsy’s neck. Eggsy will blame it on the absolutely sublime feeling of his beard scratching down his throat more than anything else that the feel of David’s hand, rough and huge, spanning down the expanse of his back before cupping the swell of his arse catches him completely unawares. David’s bending down a little, shoving his briefs down before abruptly stilling. “You-”  
  
  


“Yes, yes, I fingered myself open before texting you,” Eggsy says, flushing awkwardly. He’s even more unwilling to admit that he’d done so while looking at one of the nudes David’s sent him a week prior when they’d both been on separate stakeouts and bored out of their fucking minds. “Get _on _with it, you fuckin’ sod-” His words, in an almost mirror reflection of David earlier, end on a whine at David abruptly shoving three fingers into him.   
  
  


“You’re fucking brilliant,” David murmurs, brushing aside one of his shirt lapels with his chin before closing his mouth around a nipple, humming at the way Eggsy moans his name, hushed in the quiet of the alcove. “Absolutely incredible.”  
  
  


“I do try,” Eggsy snarks, before moaning again at a sly thrust of David’s fingers. “Oh, _fuck_\- alright, I did not call you here for you to fucking- fucking fingerfuck me into the next decade or something.”

David doesn’t acknowledge him. “You’re tense,” he says softly instead, taking a hold of Eggsy’s hand in his. “Shaking, too. Eggsy-”  
  
  


“Let’s not,” Eggsy says sharply. “I called you here for a simple shag, not a therapy session.” It makes David’s lips thin in clear irritation, but he nods in acquiescence anyway, letting go of Eggsy’s hand and pulling out his fingers as Eggsy turns around, pressing his cheek against the wall and closing his eyes. The detachment is necessary, he tells himself, trying to ignore how suddenly bereft he feels.

David doesn’t do anything for a good few seconds. Instead he inhales against Eggsy’s cheek, nosing down his jaw and gently brushing his mouth over his shoulder, Eggsy’s shirt sleeve rolled down to his forearms. It feels affectionate, weird, and Eggsy absolutely hates it with a passion. “What the fuck, David-”

“Lie down on the floor,” David breathes. “Come on- for me. Please.”

“Fine, fine,” Eggsy grouses, detaching himself and getting on the floor. It’s cold and hard on his back, and he glares up at David, propping himself up on his shoulders as he watches him finally discard his shirt and trousers, kicking them away with his feet. “At this rate, I would have been better off making do with my own hand.”

“You don’t mean that,” David says, smirking. Fully in the nude and glorious for it, he gets on his knees, that cocky smirk still playing on his lips. His eyes are still unreadable, which Eggsy has gotten used to- he’s come to realise that he could know him for years, and still never be privy to every single part of David Budd. There’s a pause before he adds, the blue of his eyes intense, “I’m the only one who’s ever been able to make you feel like this.”

David proceeds to fuck him, hard and fast with his eyes staring deep into Eggsy’s own and his hands forming bruises on Eggsy’ships- bruises that must be near permanent by now. Eggsy’s nearly folded in half, legs over David’s shoulders and hands scrabbling at the granite floor. Like this, David controls the pace- and the ceding of control is something Eggsy didn’t think he’d ever appreciate. It’s far too intimate, David’s eyes boring into his own and promising something he knows he’ll never give. It’s exactly the kind of sex that Eggsy had never hoped to have with David, that makes his heart crack in two, both belonging to David. 

They come in tandem and David pulls out, flopping onto the floor beside him while Eggsy stretches out with a wince. Both of them pant in the silence, the aftermath awkward and slightly uneasy, until David says, “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

Eggsy snorts. “You wouldn’t even if you wanted to. I almost qualified in the Olympic team.”

He can’t see him, but there’s a smile in David’s voice he can easily hear. “I’m not surprised. You’re many things, Eggsy Unwin.”

There is something in his voice that eventually makes him say it. Perhaps it is the awe in his voice- subtle but pronounced, casual, like he’s always believed it. Eggsy’s never heard it before, at least not from anyone who wasn’t Harry. It is that, more than anything, that makes the next words fall out of his mouth. 

  
  


“It’s a bad day for me, actually,” Eggsy says, scooting closer to David. They’re still not quite touching, pinkies of their hands a hair’s breadth away from each other. Eggsy doesn’t dare look at him as he continues, “I was- uh, I have kind of- a shitty stepfather.” 

  
  


David abruptly goes so still next to him Eggsy’s half afraid he’s stopped breathing. “David-”

  
  


“What did he do?” David says, voice like steel.

  
  


“I’m getting to that, keep your knickers on,” Eggsy says, half laughing away his nervousness. He’s out of his mind with apprehension, nearly vibrating out of his skin with the need to look at David and yet not look at him. This is completely new territory for him- he’s had this conversation only exactly once before, and that had been out of forced necessity. He’s never admitted this openly, willingly, voluntarily. David, it seems, is able to pull things out of him he never wanted to give. He’ll know if it’s a good thing in the next few seconds. “It was the usual stuff when I was a kid. He used to, um, beat me up and stuff. You know, I was okay with everything but then he-” Eggsy coughs, suddenly finding his throat tight. 

  
  


“But then he what?” David asks, soft and unassuming. 

“The thing about growing up on the estates,” Eggsy says, still keeping his eyes on the ceiling of the alcove, “is that money is hard to come by. Respect’s even harder. It seemed like a reasonable idea. Put food on the table, give my shitstain of a stepfather an allowance and in return, he’d leave us well alone. It wasn’t-” Eggsy scrubs a hand over his face. He’s in his late twenties now, and yet the memories don’t seem to fade- staying still, a stubborn stain. 

“The memories of-”

“Of being whored out, David, Jesus fuck,” Eggsy snaps, sitting up and hugging his knees to his chest. There is a movement from beside him, of David sitting up as well. “Dean said suck a few cocks on Smith street and give me half of it, and I’ll leave your mam alone. And I agreed. And it was fine, until I got fuckin’ roofied.” 

“Eggsy,” David whispers, his voice raw and heartbreaking. Eggsy can’t listen to him now, not even if he tried. 

“It was an accident,” Eggsy snaps. “I didn’t- I was at the Black Prince. I fuckin’- I told that guy that I only do blowies. And then I felt fuckin’ dizzy while opening his jeans and the next thing I know I’m in a motel room with nothing on me but a fat fuckin’ wad of cash on the table next to me.”

That had been the worst feeling of the entire ordeal. That feeling of emptiness, rushing to a clinic right afterwards to get a test, his heart pounding in his chest as he googled the symptoms of AIDs. That with one mistake, one second of carelessness orchestrated by forces above of him, he’d quite possibly lost a part of him he’d never wanted to lose. Those sleepless nights where closing his eyes meant confronting a faceless monster, controlling the most intimate parts of him. It was only about two weeks later when he’d gotten the call back that it was negative that he’d allowed himself to crumble, locking himself inside the bathroom and breaking down so violently he’d vomited with the force of his tears. That feeling- that’s something Eggsy can never forget, not with alcohol or a new job or the pain of a failed marriage. It’s an indelible scar, one that makes him remember the stench of Rohypnol, start having night terrors far earlier than he’s supposed to, hate Dean with such a renewed sense of passion that it had taken Merlin screaming in his ear, his Mum screaming from the side to stop himself from beating him to death in that pub. 

David’s still staring at him, jaw ajar and eyes far too intense to directly look at.

“That’s why I called you,” Eggsy sighs, thunking his head back against the wall. “I wanted you to fuck it out of me. The anger, the memory. Everything.”

David stares at him, silent and considering. And then he says, “Did I succeed?”

“Don’t think so,” Eggsy says, picking at a scab on his knee. “I wouldn’t be here pouring out my fuckin’ heart to you otherwise.” He sees David open his mouth again, and then says, sharp, “Don’t apologise. I didn’t say all this shit to hear an apology.” 

David closes his mouth, looking hurt. “I was just going to say- you looked cold.”

“Oh,” Eggsy says, floundering. He reaches for the shirt on the pile of clothes, pulling it on. David’s gaze remains on him, hawk like. 

“Serving in the army, you know, you hear of certain- cases,” David says suddenly, making Eggsy look up from where he’d been pulling on his jeans. David’s on his haunches, still naked as the day he’s born. It doesn’t make him look vulnerable in any manner at all. David’s got a way of carrying himself that’s quietly powerful, a sleek panther. It makes Eggsy feel simultaneously respectful of and attracted to him. “People misusing their power, people who think they can get away with whatever the fuck they wanted just because of their status, money, or authority.” He reaches out for Eggsy’s hand and Eggsy meets him halfway, their fingers interlocking together. “I’ve always wanted nothing more than to rip those people apart, piece by piece.”

Eggsy smiles, shuddering through it. David’s utterly serious, unsmiling and gaze intense, and somehow it makes him seem all the more endearing for it. “I’d help you. You’re about a year too late, anyway.” His mother had told him the news over the phone- a repeat sex offender, found in the Thames with his entrails around him. A grisly sight, but they’d just had to plaster his passport photograph all over the papers too- one look at it had sent him running to the loo, dry heaving. The timing had been convenient too- just a day after Harry had confronted him. Harry had never said anything, and he’d never acknowledged it. How do you acknowledge something like that, anyway? Or even begin to react to it? 

“It’s horrible, what happened to you. You know, if I could, I’d find whoever did that to you and gut them-”

“I don’t need someone to posture for me, David,” Eggsy says, sighing and thumping his head back against the wall, yet again looking at the ceiling. He hears a silence, a sniff, and then a loud rustle- David putting on clothes, fucking finally. He regrets opening his mouth at all. Maybe if he choked himself on David’s cock, this entire sad conversation would be over and done with. 

“Thank you,” David says suddenly, and Eggsy turns to look at him. His shirt’s hanging open but his pants- fortunately or unfortunately, Eggsy’s not sure yet- are zipped up. 

“The fuck for?”

“Telling me,” David says, scooting over and sitting next to him. Their thighs touch each other, a long line of warmth. It’s a strange comfort. “I was- I was worried. You were behaving- you were shaking, and that’s not something you do. What do you want to do for the rest of the day?” 

“I-” Eggsy pauses, suddenly feeling really fucking confused. He remembers how the conversation with Harry had gone. Harry had spent the rest of the week trying to force him to go to counselling sessions, trying to make him seek help. And then there had been the thing with the fucking guy in the Thames. He’s not used to this- David’s eyes, wide and sincere, his hand a scant few inches from Eggsy’s own, curled into a fist on his knee. He’s not used to the feeling that comes with being listened to.

“There’s an art exhibition, at the museum downtown,” David ventures. “About the earlier civilisations, or something.” 

“You like art, then?” Eggsy asks, grinning slightly. Funnily enough, he can picture David at it. Scribbling always at scrapbooks, tongue poking through his teeth.

“No, I find it a bore,” David says dryly, making Eggsy blink in surprise. He reaches for Eggsy’s hand, then. Eggsy lets him, their fingers intertwining together. Holding hands, he suspects, is not what friends with benefits do and yet here they are- in an alcove, on the cold granite floor, fingers clasped together. “Come with me. We’ll laugh at the paintings.” 

Eggsy doesn’t trust himself to speak. Instead, he nods, and watches as David nods to himself firmly and stands up, buttoning up his shirt.

“I didn’t- I didn’t offer for- I wasn’t posturing,” David says, suddenly, making Eggsy startle. He waves his hand around, looking frustrated. “It wasn’t posturing. I just- I’d do anything to not make you have that look in your eyes.” 

“What look?” Eggsy asks. 

“That look, it’s like-” David smiles, helplessly. “It’s like you’re so- sad. And you don’t deserve to be, you of all people.” 

The words stay in Eggsy’s head for the rest of the day, a soothing balm.

*

Merlin eventually manages to pin down David’s location to a single dilapidated warehouse west of Budapest, on the outskirts of an abandoned village. It’s teeming with security, members of the terrorist cell he’d been infiltrating and the ilk. Only Roxy and Eggsy are to head into the building, the mission deemed far too dangerous for an entire team of agents to lead.

The plane ride there is tense, unnaturally so. It’s the first mission that’s gone bad after the fiasco of the Golden Circle and Harry’s obviously stressed out back in London, his terse voice telling Eggsy not to fuck it up still ringing in his ears like a warning. Everyone’s terrified- Roxy does her best not to let it on but Eggsy can tell anyway, by the way she’s curled up her legs beneath her and is biting at the cuticles on her fingernails. Eggsy himself feels unnerved every second of the plane ride, heart pounding too fast per second at the thought of David, alone in some room by himself, probably tortured to within an inch of his life. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Roxy says suddenly, and Eggsy looks up. Her gaze is piercing as she continues, “he’s gonna be alright.”

“You don’t know that,” Eggsy says heavily.

“He’s not our new Kay for nothing,” Roxy says firmly, steadily. It’s easy for her to say it. David doesn’t define her life, her world isn’t dependent on David’s existence. If David were to pass on, beaten to death or decapitated she’d grieve, sure, but she wouldn’t feel like Eggsy probably would. She wouldn’t feel like she’d scorch the entire expanse of the earth just to feel a sense of him again, hear his voice and laughter. She wouldn’t feel like her entire soul would cease to function, the reason she got up in the morning no longer being there by her side. She wouldn’t feel like she needed something, anything drastic to happen to her just to feel an iota of what she felt next to David. Roxy didn’t love David like Eggsy did, and to Eggsy that meant all the difference in the world. 

Eggsy swallows roughly. “Yeah,” he mutters, turning away. 

The warehouse is a sterile, clean building about six floors high, nestled on the outskirts of a village to the south of Budapest. It’s heavily guarded, never visible without a thick wall of armed guards lining its parameters, and most definitely houses David Budd within its four pillars. “I saw two men drag a man out of the car,” one of the locals, an innkeeper who’s bold enough not to turn Eggsy and Roxy away when they arrive on her doorstep asking questions. “The man, he had a white mark in his hair and he was very- how do you say-”

“Beaten up?” Eggsy asks, a sinking feeling in his chest. When the innkeeper nods enthusiastically he swallows, trying not to let his mind run amok with what the innkeeper must have seen. There is a whole number of potential scenarios which she could have seen and Eggsy knows better than anyone that if he dwelled on them, he would most definitely not be able to focus on the rescue mission at all. Still, the thought weighs on him like a curse, and he has to do everything in his willpower not to meet Roxy’s stern, concerned gaze boring holes into him.

They move in on the second day of being in Budapest, in the dead of night when the forest is quiet and the streets have gone silent. A wall of armed guards there may be, but it turns out that just like everywhere else, they are also underpaid as all hell and less than qualified for the job. Crouching in the bushes on the opposite side from the warehouse, Eggsy watches as the guards talk in hushed whispers amongst themselves, cards in their hands.

Its relatively easy- child’s play, almost- to break into the warehouse. A couple of amnesiac darts have all the guards flop onto the floor, soundless with their playing cards strewn all around them in an almost macabre display. The back door of the warehouse has a biometric system which Merlin guides him through hacking, a steady presence in his ear. A couple of minutes later and they’re inside the warehouse.

“Judging by the surveillance I’ve hacked he’s in the fifth floor, left wing,” Merlin says. “Go, quickly, before they raise the alarm.”

Just before they set off, Roxy pulls him back, a tight grasp around his arm. “Eggsy-”

“This is the field, Lancelot,” Merlin says sharply, making them both jump. “Codenames only.”

“Fine,” Roxy snaps. “Galahad- are you alright? Are you fit for this mission?”

Eggsy is suddenly almost supernaturally aware of Merlin’s presence in his ear, gone suddenly quiet. One toe out of line, one word said out of order and he knows this mission will be pulled faster than he can say _David._ Being in love, it would seem, has made him a liability to everyone else. He abruptly wonders if Merlin’s put her to this and then discards the idea instantly. Roxy, above all else, was his best friend. Everything she said, she did out of a deep concern for him wrought from when they’d been the only ones standing against the bastion of hierarchy and snobbery that stood so strong within the decades old structure of Kingsman. “Yes, Lancelot,” he says, pulling his arm out of her grasp. “Head working perfectly fine.”

Roxy peers at him for a heartstopping second and then nods, as if comforted by what she sees. “Alright then,” she says. “Lead the way.”

They’re on the fourth floor when the alarm starts sounding, a caterwaulish shrieking that bounces off the eerily clean walls in a mantra that makes Eggsy’s head hurt and heart thump. It’s followed by the thundering of heavy-booted footsteps, storming down the corridor, loud enough to almost drown the alarm out. “Merlin,” he hisses after tapping on the side of his glasses, Roxy’s breathing hot on his neck.

“They’re on the second floor,” Merlin says tersely. “I can’t draw them off.”

Roxy draws her gun out, cursing. “I’ll handle them. Galahad, go get Kay.” Eggsy turns to look at her, at the scar standing out in sharp relief on her neck. She seems fierce and invincible, and Eggsy feels his own throat turning sore. “Lancelot-”

“Don’t be an idiot, Galahad- go _now!”_ Roxy yells at him, and he does, turning on his heel and running up the steps.

They’d spent the whole of yesterday poring over blueprints, memorizing each possible nook and cranny of the building, putting them all to mind. Eggsy had resented Roxy for refusing to let up on him until he had virtually swallowed the entire map of the place but now, its more of a boon than anything- his feet know instinctively where to turn. As the sounds of fighting start from below Eggsy finds himself standing in front of a nondescript door- white, polished and unmarked. “That’s the room,” Merlin breathes.

The door is locked, obviously. Jimmying it open doesn’t help and taking a deep breath Eggsy steps back an inch before inhaling deeply and then aiming a forceful kick at the door. Once, twice, three times- the fifth kick finally has the door blasting off its hinges, and Eggsy for a second stares at the two bulky Hungarian men who have their guns drawn at him.

“Hello,” he says. “You have a beautiful country. Come here often?”

Fighting has always come easy to Eggsy, like duck to a water. It’s not, like he thinks Merlin or Harry supposes, because he grew up wielding his fists at the world and answering each question with a punch but because it had been pretty easy to translate the elasticity and flexibility in his blood to fighting. Either way, a simple twist of his body in mid-air, his legs flying out and kicking the guns out of both of their hands at the same time has them disarmed pretty quick before he points his own gun at them, shooting both in the head in quick succession. They fall back with a thump, revealing David behind them, tied down to a chair and gloriously alive.

“Fuck,” Eggsy immediately gasps, stumbling forward and crashing onto his knees beside him, ripping the gag out of his mouth before tugging apart the ropes that have bound him to the chair. David’s injured, very visibly so- there’s a dark patch of red to his shirt and his left knee looks oddly mishappen behind the denim, various cuts and bruises littering his face. His eyes, though, are just as keen and bright as ever as they stare at the side of Eggsy’s head, hungry.

“Eggsy,” David croaks. “You- you came.”

“Of course, I did,” Eggsy says gruffly, finally pulling the ropes away and letting them pool on the floor, a sad heap of bloodied brown. He sits back on his haunches, staring up at David. Even battered to within an inch of his life, he’s beautiful- untouchably so. “Did you doubt me?”

“I just-” David coughs, once, and a bit of blood dribbles out. Eggsy abruptly realizes where they are and curses loudly. “Come on,” he says, holding his hand out. “I hope you can walk.”

It’s slow going, David dragging his feet more than walking, his breaths heavy on Eggsy’s neck and his breathing rattled and wet. They’ve just left the room when the comms link on Eggsy’s glasses crackles back to life again. “Galahad,” Merlin says, worried, “make your way to extraction, Lancelot’s waiting. And hurry.”

“Roger that,” Eggsy says, and looks at David. He’s swaying on his feet, the skin beneath his eyes purple and the dark stain on his shirt growing wider. The chasm of worry within his stomach grows as he says, “We’re gonna have to pick up our pace, Kay.”

“So I heard,” David says, groaning as he hefts himself off the wall, leaning on Eggsy’s shoulder again. He’s heavy but it’s a strange comfort, like a blanket one puts on in the winter. He stinks too, of sweat and blood and god knows what else but Eggsy feels nothing but the urge to tuck David within himself, wish away all his hurts and create a bubble just for themselves to exist within.

The back door to the warehouse becomes visible when David suddenly stops, gasping wetly. “Stop,” he groans, digging his heels in and ignoring Eggsy pulling him forward. “I can’t- I can’t-”

“Stop fuckin’ about, Kay!” Eggsy yells, trying to pull at his arm. There’s the sound of distant thunder, as if a few hundred very, very pissed off terrorists are about to come raining hell on their arses. Out here, in the corridor, David having some sort of mental and emotional crisis, they’re vulnerable. Merlin’s screaming something in his ear but he can’t be bothered to listen, glowering at David instead. “Look, it’s just a few feet away-”

David’s hunched over, one arm around Eggsy’s shoulder which Eggsy is holding on to even as they stand still in the empty corridor, another arm curled around his midriff. It’s coated with blood- blood from the stain on his shirt. Maybe Eggsy should have done something, he thinks wildly, fashioned a fucking bandage or something-

“I need to tell you, I need to tell you something,” David pants, his face white as a sheet. “I need to- its urgent, Eggsy.” And then, right on cue, his eyes roll up to the back of his head and he drops into a dead faint.

Eggsy stares at his prone body for a second, caught in a web of horror and anxiety and fear. And then the thunder grows louder and he abruptly snaps back into himself. “You always had the worst timing for anything,” he tells David, bending down and lifting him in a fireman’s carry. Like this, David makes him feel like Atlantis, carrying the weight of the world itself on his shoulders.

The door is once again locked in a biometric system and abruptly losing his patience, Eggsy takes out his gun and shoots once at the lock before kicking it down. Roxy is waiting on the road in the passenger’s seat of the van performing as their extraction vehicle, poking her head out of the window. She looks definitely the worse for wear, a gash on her chin and blood running from a cut that must be in her scalp. “Get in, Eggsy!” she screams.

Eggsy does, running across the backyard in a full sprint, over the bodies of guards to throw David in the backseat before getting in himself, slamming the door shut beside him and jumping when a bullet smashes the glass through, a few shards cutting his cheek. He arranges himself so that David’s head is pillowed on his lap, the van speeding its way to one of the Kingsman-mandated military bases they have stationed in Hungary, where a helicopter will be waiting to cart them back to London. David’s managed to deteriorate in those precious few minutes it had taken to get him to the van, almost resembling a skeleton as his breaths come out wrong, rattled and broken. Eggsy cards a hand through his hair, careful to avoid his cuts as he bends his head forward, pressing his lips to David’s bloodied forehead. “Wake up, David,” he whispers. “You still have to tell me what you wanted to tell me back there.”

David’s eyes, furiously, remain closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay! i've still been very in the dumps regarding my mental health but i promise i'm trying to finish this story as fast as i can. also yet again sorry for the cliffhanger, but i promise david is ok and this gets resolved in the final chapter that will come soon (i hope). this really was meant to be the last chapter but i had to split it into two because it got way too long. please leave me kudos and/or comments and as always you can hit me w an ask at himbotaron on tumblr!


	3. Chapter Three: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has been split in two, so this is the first part!

Eggsy and his mother are not estranged, not exactly- they still talk, which has to count for something. His mother sends him weird little internet links in the morning, conspiracy articles and once, a video of a cat in a sombrero doing a backflip which Eggsy had laughed himself hoarse at and then sent to the entire Kingsman chat. They’re perfectly cordial, familial even when Eggsy’s feeling lenient. He still pops over on some Sundays and he’s met his mother’s new beau, doing a full background check on him once he’d gotten back.

That’s the thing about them- they seem alright, but they’re also _not _alright. There’s a weird barrier between them now, comprising Eggsy’s salary at Kingsman, him staying at Stanhope Mews, disappearing for months on end and then reappearing again. Daisy loves Eggsy, bless her little heart- she shrieks whenever he picks her up and spins her around, but Eggsy’s about half convinced his mother doesn’t anymore, not really. How can you love a stranger? Eggsy speaks different now, talking in posh and clipped tones and being less inclined to a fight with the rough lads on the estate. They don’t talk about how much he’s changed, and that contributes to half the problem.

It’s therefore very much a surprise when Eggsy’s mother calls him over in a hurry. It’s on a day that Eggsy has his pre-arranged booty call with David and so he texts him not to come over, citing pressing paperwork, before rushing to Rowley Estate. “I need you to look over Daisy for the day,” she says, all decked out in a pantsuit and pushing a quiet Daisy into his arms. “It’s an emergency, they called me in at the very last minute.” There had been a shortage of manpower all over after V day- even more after the Golden Circle’s reign of terror- and while appropriately disastrous in a number of areas, it had freed up enough jobs that his mother had been able to take one as a clerk at a private clinic.

“Sure,” Eggsy says confused. “I- do I need to-”

“All here,” Michelle Unwin says, patting a bag she slings over his shoulder before bending down, pressing a kiss to Daisy’s forehead. “Be good for your big brother, baby.”

Daisy nods, and Michelle straightens up. “Text me if there’s any trouble,” she directs at him, before walking off in short professional strides, disappearing down the road that leads to the train station. “Have fun, Mum, love you too,” Eggsy tells the empty street.

As awkward and out of touch Eggsy might be with his own mother, he certainly is not with Daisy. They have a fun afternoon watching cartoons together and then eating takeout for lunch. As the evening dawns Eggsy realizes he really doesn’t have enough to cook dinner for them and gets his jacket, announcing to Daisy that a trip to the local supermarket is in order.

They’re in the aisle for ketchup sauces when Eggsy sees them. It’s David, of all people, decked out in a simple jacket and what looks like unwashed jeans with a boy and a girl holding on to either one of his hands. Both hold some resemblance to him- the same jawline, the same eyes, the same smile. With a sinking in his heart, Eggsy realizes they’re his kids which must mean-

He pulls on Daisy’s hand which is in his own. “Come on, flower, we need to pay for all these.” It’s no use, though, because at the sound of his voice David looks up in shock, and then he’s walking over, the two kids in tow.

“Eggsy, hey,” David says, blinking at him. He’s unfailingly gorgeous, hair flopping over his forehead and a light dusting of stubble over his jaw. There’s still a large, bluish mark on his neck, splotchy and unmistakeable. It makes Eggsy swallow, the memory of putting it there fresh in his head.

“Hey yourself,” Eggsy says awkwardly. He feels the two kids staring at him, gazes intense and unmoving the way all little kids stare. He scratches at the back of his neck, his cheeks heating up. “I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“Accident at the Tesco’s in my district, I had to drive my kids over- Charlie and Ella,” David says, and then clears his throat. “Usually I only have them on the weekends, but my ex-wife had a hot date.” The careful emphasis on _ex-wife_ isn’t ignored by Eggsy, and he flushes deeply again. Trust David to see right through him, even when he knows he can’t return the favour. “I thought you had paperwork.”

“Half true,” Eggsy says, smiling ruefully in the face of his lie. Daisy’s clutching onto his pant leg, shrinking behind him. The effects of V-day had indeed been catastrophic, scarring Daisy so vividly she still has night terrors and remains almost criminally shy around strangers. It cracks at Eggsy’s heart, sometimes, to see the fear materialize in her actions and in her eyes- to see the true cost of dallying around with Gazelle in Valentine’s lair instead of finishing the job quickly. He releases Daisy’s hand to stroke the back of her hair instead, hoping to soothe her. “Mum had an emergency and I was the only one around. This is Daisy,” he adds. “My little sister.”

David releases the hands of his kids, going down on one knee and smiling brilliantly at Daisy. The effect is instantaneous- it lights up his entire face, making his eyes shine, luminous. Eggsy doesn’t think he’s ever seen David smile this widely before. The fact that it’s for his baby sister is something that makes Eggsy feel warm, his heart growing two sizes bigger. “Hello, Daisy,” he says. “I love Star Wars, too. Always thought Leia’s the best character.”

Daisy releases Eggsy’s pant leg to step forward a little, twisting the material of her shirt between her hands, emblazoned with a graphic of Leia Organa over the front. “Me too,” Daisy says softly- also, incidentally, the first words she’s ever said voluntarily to a stranger. Eggsy would be surprised, but maybe David has that effect on every person. Making them feel safe enough to come out of their shells, comforted by his quiet yet strangely sturdy presence.

“Star Wars is cool,” the boy- Charlie, if Eggsy’s remembering correctly- at his side pipes up and then turns pink, as if he hadn’t expected himself to speak. Ella is still staring at Eggsy, her eyes wide in an eerie, single-minded stare that makes Eggsy clear his throat, shifting on his feet. The only kid he’d ever been good around was Daisy. He shifts his gaze around and noticing the foodstuffs in David’s trolley, nods at it. “Ran out of stuff in your fridge, I see.”

“Yeah, completely forgot to stock up and- I mean, you’ve seen my fridge,” David says, laughing embarrassedly and rubbing up the back of his neck. He’s breathtaking, even more so while holding the hands of his kids and smiling at Daisy like he’d be more than happy to take her in as his own. Eggsy’s skin feels hot as he looks at him, stubble lining his jaw like the loveliest of charcoal drawings and the first two buttons of his polo beneath his jacket popped open, his collarbone half in view. Before Eggsy realizes it his mouth is moving of its own volition, and he’s unable to control the words that fall out of it.

“Hey- you can come have dinner back at mine,” he says, and then internally curses at himself. God, what’s he thinking, David’s definitely gonna say no-

David’s looking uncertainly at him. “I’m not- I mean, really, I don’t want to trouble you at all.” There’s a keenness in his eyes, especially as Charlie bounces on the balls of his feet, looking eager.

“It’s no trouble,” Eggsy ventures, and when he sees David teetering on the edge of acceptance, presses him. “Come on, guv. I make a mean beef lasagna.” It’s only about half true but for some reason, he really, really does want David and his kids to come back with him, see them laughing in the kitchen. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever get the chance again, and the thought of never knowing how it will feel is far too painful to fathom.

“Okay,” David says, before snorting, a knowing glint entering his eyes. Eggsy flushes, remembering it too- just last week, burning his sandwich in the Kingsman break room so badly they’d had to call services over. “I’ll oversee in the kitchen, yeah?”

Dinner is enjoyable, to a degree Eggsy hasn’t ever experienced before. David’s still awkward, unerringly so, but there’s a certain charm to the way he asks Daisy if the sauce is alright, waiting for her answer before somberly letting her know he’s very thankful for her praise. His kids look up to him, an aura of half love and half worship that’s strong even to Eggsy, a technical outsider. It’s evident in how Charlie tries to copy David’s mannerisms, keeping his elbows off the table and twirling the spaghetti with his fork, how Ella turns to her father, engaging him in another conversation about school. David’s a family man, Eggsy realizes with a jolt. Family men do not fit in at Kingsman- that’s what Harry had always told Eggsy, but then he’d gone off and convinced Eggsy to marry Tilde and married his own quartermaster himself. 

David attempts to help him with washing the dishes when dinner’s done, his kids waiting in the living room as Eggsy pushes him away, laughing. “It’s fine, you should get going,” he says, leaning in to kiss his cheek and then leaning back abortively, abruptly remembering what he is to David. “You know,” he hurriedly continues, trying to ignore the confused look in David’s eyes at him swaying on his feet like some madman, “you’ve never told me about them before.”

David leans his hip against the doorway of the kitchen, staring at him. It’s the same way Ella does- pupils unmoving, lips in a thin line, face unreadable. Perhaps it was a Budd thing, being able to stare right at someone so piercingly you made them feel like their skin was about to peel off. “You’ve never told me about Daisy before,” he says.

“Touché,” Eggsy says, grabbing the dishrag from the side. He focuses on rubbing the plate before adding, “You know, I’ve got an ex-wife too. Never told you before.”

“I know,” David says, sending him a small grin. “Princess Tilde. I don’t think there’s anyone who doesn’t know about that.”

Touché, too. That particular nasty episode of Eggsy’s life had featured in the Kingsman’s gossip grapevine for months, refusing to leave. Their whirlwind romance, rush of a wedding, and then abrupt divorce just a mere three months later made public knowledge in the eve of Merlin and Arthur’s wedding- it had been cannon fodder for bloodthirsty sharks in the form of techies and Merlin’s assistants. As much as he’d loathed the whispers following him around by even the agents he’d liked- _commitment phobe _and _typical chav_ being just a few of the charming lot- he thinks he’d loathe it even more if they’d fallen apart after they’d settled down, had kids and the lot.

“Kingsman had a field day with that one,” Eggsy says, placing the now clean plates in the dish rack before turning to face David, leaning his butt against the kitchen sink. “You know, there were a lot of rumours. Shit like I’d cheated on her, stuff like that.” It hadn’t been an enormously violent blowout, like Eggsy suspects half of Kingsman wants to believe. It hadn’t ended with Tilde hurling divorce papers at him, screaming words of abuse.

“So what happened?” David asks. Eggsy’s surprised he asks- he rarely ever has questions, rarely ever genuinely queries about someone else’s life.

“I don’t think we were ever in love,” Eggsy says, shrugging. “I was in love with the idea of being respected for making something out of myself. She was in love with the idea of rebellion, bringing back an unruly prize. Those things don’t mix well, unfortunately.” Add the mess of emotions the fiasco of the Golden Circle had brought him to, and out had come a veritable disaster in the form of one failed marriage, morose in the back of the huge hotel ballroom holding the reception for Merlin and Harry’s wedding.

“You thought a marriage would bring you respect?” David says, narrowing his eyes.

“To a princess of a nation, yeah,” Eggsy says defensively, not liking the judgement he hears. “And I was young and stupid. What’s your excuse?”

“Got Vicky pregnant with Ella and married her,” David says ruefully. “Charlie a year later. We were in love, but we had no money. I joined the forces and came back a different person.” The implication is clear enough that Eggsy doesn’t have to ask- he’d come back to Vicky but not as someone she had fallen for. Eggsy’s never been to war, but the notion of violent conflict driving people apart- that he can empathise with. “We have- it’s complicated.”

“But you’re exes?” Eggsy asks, and immediately flushes. This isn’t him- pathetic tilt to his voice, trying to gauge if he’s a rebound for the man he’s been fucking. Everything about today has been uncharacteristic. He’s never been this open with anyone else, not even with Harry. There’s a nagging voice that’s telling him he knows damn well the reason why, but he refuses to believe it.

“Oh, definitely,” David says, eyes hooded and dark. There’s a familiar heat to the way his eyes rove over Eggsy’s body, lingering at his cheekbones and the way the buttons of Eggsy’s shirt strain over his pectorals. It makes Eggsy shift in place, his palms getting sweaty. David managing to unseat him this much with just one glance- the truth is getting harder to ignore. “We’re not in love anymore. She’s in my past.”

They stare at each other in the dark of the kitchen, Eggsy foolishly believing that he can almost hear their heartbeats sync up. If David would let him, Eggsy thinks wildly, stupidly, he’d drop down to his knees right here. He’d let David keep that dark eyed, hooded gaze on him, full of heat and power and something else, pin his hands against the wall and-

“Daddy! Are we going?”

The moment’s broken. David looks away, breathing harshly through his nose as Eggsy sucks in a deep breath, trying to get his heartbeat to calm down. He’d been in a light blue shirt and he’s convinced he’s sporting some really unattractive armpit stains right now.

“I’ll- get going,” David says, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s back to being embarrassed, awkward David, quiet and gruff with his words. “I’ll see you Monday?”

“Monday,” Eggsy confirms, and when David’s left the kitchen, the front door closing behind him, he covers his face with his hands and quietly groans into them.

*

David, it turns out, has a set of broken ribs, a large gash over his stomach, several wounds all over his body indicating signs of torture, and a shattered kneecap. His captors had gone to town on him- even more so when they’d recognized who he was. The result is an unresponsive David hooked up to about a million machines, the thrum of them loud in the empty hospital room.

“He’ll be alright,” Merlin tells Eggsy, sitting next to him in the hallway outside the room. “He’ll need a metric ton of bed rest, and also no active duty for about a month, but he’s going to be just fine.”

Eggsy exhales, staring at the palm of his hands where bloody nail marks are visible. He may have gone just slightly ballistic in the helipad of the London headquarters, screaming at the doctors who’d rushed in to cart David away to the emergency room in a stretcher. Logically, he’d recognized that they were just trying to help him, heal up his wounds and the like. Logic, however, hadn’t been working in his brain when he’d registered the sight of David being torn from his arms, limp and pale. He’d only subsided when Roxy had threatened to sedate him, staring forlornly at the stretcher disappearing behind the doors to the mansion.

“…was extremely displeased about you going- Eggsy? Eggsy, are you listening?” At a forceful tap to his shoulder, Eggsy looks up, startled.

“God, I’m sorry,” Eggsy says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “You were saying?”

Merlin looks at him disbelievingly, and then scoffs, rolling his eyes. “How long do you expect us to hold up this farce, Galahad?” he demands, leaning back against the chair. He’s very visibly tired- dark circles beneath his eyes, the skin around them tight. Eggsy’s sure he looks worse, having only had a short nap on the flight back to London. “I asked you all those weeks ago. Remember? I asked if you were okay.”

“And I’m okay,” Eggsy says sullenly, staring at his palms. He can feel the lecture from Merlin coming, like the onset of a terrible storm. “Christ, Merlin. I said I’m okay.”

“You called our head doctor a, and I quote, _cocksucker,”_ Merlin says, raising his eyebrows. Eggsy flushes at the memory- not exactly his finest moment. “He’s going to be up in no time at all. You know his- well, what I mean to say is you have nothing to be worry about.”

“Thanks,” Eggsy mutters. They sit in silence for a while before Eggsy glances over at Merlin. He’s staring right ahead, eyes far away in a look that means he’s either thinking about Harry or getting a cup of coffee. Everyone at Kingsman loved to assume that Merlin was obsessed about his work, that he acted like nothing existed out of it. They’d be right- but that had been before Harry had come into the picture. It was as if Harry was the separator holding Merlin and his work apart; without him, either one would consume the other.

Eggsy once used to fantasise about finding love like that, especially after things had fallen through with Tilde. He imagined he’d find his other half one day, the Harry to his Merlin- the separator to the halves of his soul determined to set him alight. It’s only after being with David- falling for him, and then registering his words, like slowly festering wounds on flesh- that he’s begun to realise that perhaps he’d never find that kind of love. David certainly isn’t the separator holding him and his demons apart. David is the storm, making him lose himself in a massive whirlwind of emotion and sex and so, so much of the pure act of _feeling _he’d never let himself feel before.

Merlin suddenly snorts, causing Eggsy to startle, looking over at him. There’s a small, shit-eating grin on his lips. “It’s just- when I told you to take care of David, this really wasn’t what I meant. _Jesus, _Eggsy.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Eggsy scoffs, laughing himself as Merlin doubles over, chuckles erupting out of his chest. “You know, I don’t appreciate this. I’m at a weak moment, and all you’re doing is laughing.”

“Because it’s funny,” Merlin gasps, wiping a tear from his left eye. “You, loud and annoying, with _David.”_

“How the hell did you find out, anyway?” Eggsy demands.

“No one here’s blind, Eggsy,” Merlin says, his shoulders still shaking in the aftermath of the laughter. “It’s in the little things- how both of you arrived half an hour within each other, perfectly timed. How I’d find footage missing with no explanation. How you looked at him,” he adds, and Eggsy has to swallow roughly, looking away, the mirth of the situation abruptly gone.

“I never realized how much it would hurt, you know,” Eggsy says, looking at the pillar opposite and trying to ignore the feel of Merlin’s keen gaze on himself. “Waiting for someone you love to get better.”

“It gets better over time,” Merlin says gently. That seems to be the answer to everything- time. That’s what Tilde had told him too when they’d first signed the papers. _It will get better. _Eggsy’s exhausted of waiting, though- for his life to turn around, for that feeling of the slightest bit of happiness to return, for David to love him back.

“I’ve done this numerous times with Harry, you know,” Merlin continues. “He never wised up to the fact that I was arse over tits in love with him, despite waking up every single time to my sorry arse by the bed.”

“It’s different, with you and Harry,” Eggsy argues, folding his arms and leaning over, looking at the floors. Kingsman floors are pristine, well kept- not a single scratch. If there are cleaners, Eggsy’s never seen them. “You always knew- if the positions were reversed, Harry would be waiting for you. You always knew he’d realise that he loves you back. I don’t- David and I, we’re not like that.”

Merlin’s silent, staring at him with his mouth slightly ajar. There’s a glint of pity in his eyes, and it makes Eggsy absolutely furious. When did he get to this absolutely pathetic stage- this sorry, sad mess? “David and I aren’t destined,” Eggsy says, his eyes sore and throat tight. “Not like you and Harry.”

“I’m sure he loves you back, Eggsy,” Merlin says, sounding astounded. “I’m pretty certain of it, in fact.”

“Jesus, Merlin, I don’t need you to talk down to me,” Eggsy snaps, feeling irritable. The walls feel like they’re closing in, tight and claustrophobic. Sitting in a waiting room, waiting for someone who more likely than not dislikes him all because he had the audacity love him- it’s a fool’s errand. What the fuck is he doing here? He jumps on his feet, causing Merlin to look up at him again, eyes wide.

“I need to- let me know when he wakes up,” Eggsy stammers, fixing his jacket. He feels sweaty and grimy, the back of his shirt sticking to his skin and his jeans uncomfortably clammy. He’s in severe need of a cold drink and a change of clothes, though perhaps not necessarily in that order.

“Eggsy,” Merlin says urgently, “you do know you can stay h-”

“I know, but I think I can’t- I can’t be here,” Eggsy explains, frantic and feeling as if he’s speaking into a void, all his words getting swallowed up into nothingness. The confusion and worry is reflected on Merlin’s face like a mirror, and it makes him feel even more desperate to get away- Merlin shouldn’t be here, worrying for him. Merlin should be in there, worrying about his proposal who’s laid up in bed after getting tortured to within an inch of his life.

“You can have the week off,” Merlin says gently.

“I thought Kingsman agents weren’t supposed to let emotions interfere with their jobs,” Eggsy mutters, rubbing his own arms. He can’t bring himself to look at the closed door of the hospital room, think of David within the four walls, hooked up to a bunch of monitors and breathing around a nasal cannula, skin resembling paper. He’d thought the worse he could ever feel was look at Harry get shot on a tinny laptop screen, watch Merlin get blown up before his eyes. He’d been wrong, horribly so.

“I think you run on emotions, and that’s the best part of you,” Merlin says serenely, folding his hands in his lap. “But letting them consume you would be the opposite of wise, I think. Go home and rest, Galahad. I’ll update you on his condition.”

*

There’s a fundamental shift in the air between them, after that afternoon in the alcove and the rest of the day spent in the art exhibition. Everything is suddenly all the more sensitive between them- the sex, the conversations, the time spent together. It is as if Eggsy’s even more hyper aware of David’s presence, even when there’s a lack of him. There’s a special place in his own brain carved just for David to reside in, cropping up at the most inopportune of times.

“You’re different, lately,” Roxy tells him one day, when they’re both catching a bite at the local taco place. Eggsy has to lower his taco at that, staring at her. “Different how?”

“Happier,” Roxy says thoughtfully, taking a sip from her coke. “A little bit goofy, stupid- like.”

“Charming,” Eggsy had said dryly, before switching the topic. The words had stayed on his mind though, for very long after. He hadn’t been like this with anyone else, not his previous partners or Tilde. No one could even tell they’d been dating til he’d brought Tilde around for game night with the lads. What must it say about him and David, Eggsy doesn’t dare to wonder, that after just a few weeks together of nothing but sex- alright, almost nothing but sex- a change is definitely evident?

Eggsy’s unwilling to inspect that part of their relationship too closely. He’s unwilling to know what it means, to figure out what it could possibly reveal about himself and he’s still unwilling when he comes in on a Monday about three months after they’ve started their little trysts to find out that its David’s day off.

“Agents have days off?” Eggsy says in surprise when Harry tells him so. He’d gotten suspicious when he’d seen neither hide nor hair of David, all his texts and calls going unanswered. Harry had been working on a large pile of paperwork when he’d come knocking, looking very relieved to find an excuse to shove it aside.

“Yes, if they request for it,” Harry says, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t you read the dossier?” The dossier, a fat grey folder Merlin had handed Eggsy a day after he’d been sworn in as Galahad which he hadn’t even bothered to look through before signing off on. No one ever reads the fine print- and anyway, it’s not like Eggsy had a choice back then, when signing on for Kingsman.

“Obviously,” Eggsy lies, avoiding Harry’s skeptical gaze. “Why did he ask for a day off, then?”

“Honestly, Eggsy,” Harry sighs. “Isn’t it beneath you to seek gossip?”

“It’s not _gossip,_ it’s me asking after a coworker,” Eggsy argues, bouncing his knee nervously with the possibilities running through his mind. A date with someone? A date with his ex-wife, who was probably a gorgeous leggy blonde leagues above Eggsy?

“Merlin would know more than me, but this is the anniversary of- an incident on his previous job,” Harry says, a wary look in his eyes. “It was a very traumatic experience, and we are not draconian overlords who refuse to recognize that our agents are human. Any way they need to cope, we give it to them.”

That had been just one of the many things differentiating him from Chester King- and indeed, the previous Arthur as well, god rest his soul. Both Arthur and Chester loved tradition and propriety, and tradition and propriety apparently dictated you work your agents to the bone. Eggsy still has the utterly horrible memory of stumbling off a jet to lurch into an empty loo at headquarters, vomiting into the sink before heading off for another mission that had been conveniently assigned to him.

“How very kind of you,” Eggsy says, brushing lint off his trousers before standing up. “How come I don’t get any days off, eh?”

“Because then you’d accuse me of favouring you too much,” Harry says, picking up a form on his desk with a much bereaved look on his face. He looks up at Eggsy, adding, “it’s not as if I haven’t attempted to do so in the past.”

“And you’ve done a smashing job,” Eggsy says hastily, remembering how he’d dodged down a corridor at a full sprint to get away from Harry once, in the immediate aftermath of his divorce with Tilde. In his defense, a lot of Kingsman agents had a lot to say to him back then. He turns for the door, only to hear Harry call him back once again.

“Pop around to Kay’s,” Harry suggests. “He might need a friend.” There’s a look in his eyes that seems all too knowing, and Eggsy manages to croak out a stilted, “fine,” before twisting the doorknob open and fleeing.

The thing with being uncertain about David was this- boundaries were constantly shifting like sand, hard to grasp at and getting beneath his fingernails in the most grating way possible. David’s like a veritable wall to him and he suspects, will forever be as such, no matter how hard he attempts to tear it down by exposing himself. How can he presume to be the kind of friend that will help draw David out of whatever funk he’s apparently sunk into, when he’s not even sure whether that privilege has been afforded to him? David’s interested in him for his arse and the way he can move his tongue, not his empty platitudes and attempts at comfort.

Be that as it may, his phone staying dead worries at him. He’s able to get a significant load of paperwork out of the way and by the time he leaves headquarters at six, his calls and texts are still unanswered. Eggsy gets into one of the Kingsman cabs and when Henry, the driver, says, “Where to, sir?” he only takes a second’s worth of consternation before answering, “Tesco’s down the street from Stoneleigh Terrace.”

David’s neighbourhood is dark and grimy, the buildings clustered together and the pillars in need of a paint job. He’d only been here once before, sleeping the whole ride to his place as it had been just after a flight. There’s a huge lawn that appears as Henry drives him to the Tesco’s and he stares at it, craning his neck as it zooms past. For some reason, that lawn had looked familiar- but that was ridiculous, he can’t remember being in this part of London before and if he had, it certainly wasn’t to go to some spot clearly only reserved for tourists.

The Tesco’s is empty, thankfully, only a girl with multicoloured pigtails filing her nails with a bored look at the counter. He picks up a bottle of cheap, knock off sake- no substitute for the real thing- and the ingredients he’d need to make a decent spaghetti, checking his phone periodically for messages. The girl at the counter chewing on a stick of bubblegum and eyeing the suit he’s in rings him for the purchase, eyebrows raising further at the credit card Eggsy hands her. It’s a strange look to be on the opposing end of, and he’s suddenly aware of the fact that three years ago that had been him- looking at rich toffs distrustfully, judging the place they’d been born to and the place they’d shoved him in. It’s a sobering realization that perhaps, there were more things shared between him and David than he’d realized.

Eggsy has to knock once, twice, and then thrice before David opens the door. It’s a forceful ripping open, Eggsy jumping a little at the swing of the door, and then David’s standing on the threshold. He looks, frankly, pretty horrible- unshaven, his eyes sunken in and hollow, dressed only in sweatpants that seem to have been yesterday’s. Eggsy swallows, wondering if he’s made a mistake coming when David does nothing but stare, eyes completely blank. “Um, wotcher David,” he says, and then raises his wrist, around which the handles of the Tesco’s shopping bag is looped. “Brought stuff for dinner.”

David, face still a stone wall, stands back a little. It’s an obvious invitation and Eggsy tries not to let the glee show on his face as he steps in. The apartment is dark and strangely clean- no personal pictures, no ornaments of any kind. A father with two kids, harbouring nothing- it makes Eggsy feel both uneasy and almost painfully curious. The need to know what made David this much of an enigma is a parasitic hunger, eating away at his insides. He sets the plastic bag on a chair, before turning back to David. “So do you- _whoa!”_

In two easy strides David’s cornered him against the table, hands braced on the table on either side of him and nosing down his neck in a way Eggsy’s intimately familiar with. “David,” Eggsy breathes. “David, hey-”

David’s not listening. He may have looked like complete ass, face covered in a day’s worth of stubble and eyes shadowed with reddened and swollen bags, but the maddening thing is he smells heavenly like he always does. Eggsy inhales deeply, trying his hardest not to lose his head in all that is David Budd- the way his teeth scrape down the side of his neck, his stubble scratching its merry way across his shoulder, his hands sliding over and then grabbing at the curve of Eggsy’s arse like a man starving in the desert. “David, we need to-”

“You came here for something,” David says, and then he raises his head, eyes slightly wild. “Didn’t you?” Oh, but Eggsy’s kingdom just to be able to have David look at him like this forever- like Eggsy is his salvation and redemption in one.

“I came because I thought,” Eggsy swallows, remembering Harry’s words. Telling David he thought he’d needed a friend sounds ridiculous, especially with David’s hand on his arse. “I thought you needed- someone to be with you.”

“You’re right,” David says, and then he follows that up with, “I need to bend you over this table and fuck you.” The words are an aphrodisiac shooting straight to his cock and the small of Eggsy’s back becomes instantly clammy with sweat, making his shirt stick to his skin uncomfortably.

“This isn’t like you,” Eggsy says instead, trying desperately to talk and move his tongue which suddenly seems too fat for his mouth. David’s starting to look annoyed, his breath coming in short bursts as his hands start to make their way to the front of Eggsy’s trousers. Eggsy can’t keep holding on like this, not when the feel of David’s teeth against the skin of his neck lingers like an absurd yet incredibly sensitive tattoo. “David, we need to talk about- about today. You need to- this isn’t healthy, you need to talk to someone.”

“I promise,” David says, unfocused as he pulls Eggsy’s zipper down. “After.”

It’s hard and fast and filthy, David holding Eggsy down by the neck as his hips piston in and out of him. There’s something to the way David fucks him, as if he’s trying to chase something that he knows is within his reach. It feels heavenly like it always does, Eggsy coming within minutes of David entering him, breathing so hard into the wood of the table that he feels it grow wet beneath his cheek. David emits a low groan, coming as well before slumping over his back, panting harshly. David doesn’t speak, not when Eggsy pushes off from the table in search of a washcloth, not when Eggsy takes out all the ingredients and sets to making them both dinner, not when he’s pulled by Eggsy over to the couch in front of the TV where they sit, knees touching.

It’s only when Eggsy attempts to switch on the TV that he shows some sign of life. As Eggsy attempts to stand up, reaching for the remote, he places a hand on his knee to stop him from doing so. “Eggsy,” he says, his voice low, and Eggsy has to stop, “what the fuck are you doing here?”

“You seemed like you needed company,” Eggsy offers, and when David’s expression remains severe, sighs. “You weren’t answering my calls or texts. I got worried.”

“You shouldn’t be,” David mutters, picking up his fork and twirling it in the plate of spaghetti. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“You don’t_ seem _fine,” Eggsy ventures, raising his eyebrow. David’s quiet at that, but his jaw stiffens- a surefire sign of him getting annoyed. Eggsy wonders at what it says about them, that a simple facial movement tells him a story about what David’s feeling. Perhaps David wasn’t as unreadable anymore as he’d presumed. “You know what, it’s fine- it’s not-”

“Do you remember- the bombing? Of the Home Secretary?” David suddenly interrupts, looking up. In the meagre light of the room, he looks impossibly young. Confused, Eggsy shakes his head.

“Nah, can’t say I have- I don’t pay attention to politics a lot of the time.”

“You should,” David says, but he’s grinning slightly. “Remember the bombing? At St Matthew’s College?”

“Yeah, actually,” Eggsy says, eyes widening. He remembers it happening during the ongoing trials for the position of Lancelot, Roxy hunched over her phone in the afternoon and giving them periodic updates. A lot had divided them as recruits, but that had been one of the days which had united them as a team- all of them huddled together, hotly debating the bombing as if it was celebrity gossip. “Hold on, I remember now- someone died, didn’t they?”

David winces, but he keeps his gaze steady with Eggsy’s. “Yes, well- it was my fault. I just-” he pushes the spaghetti away, placing it on the table with a pale sort of look. His hands are clenched into fists, curled as they are on his knees, and Eggsy’s overtaken with the strong urge to take them into his own hands. He doesn’t, biting his lip with the force of trying not to let himself do exactly that. “You know, I was supposed to be checking the parameters. Make sure it was safe, but I didn’t. I couldn’t get to her in time.”

Eggsy waits, but David remains silent, staring at his own hands and barely breathing. “To who?” he prompts gently.

“To Julia,” David says heavily. “Montague. The home secretary. I was supposed to be protecting her. She was my-” he swallows roughly, a hooded and dark look in his eyes that makes Eggsy realise, suddenly, that this may have been what Merlin had been talking about all those months ago when he’d entreated Eggsy to take care of David. “It doesn’t matter. The anniversary of that bombing is today.”

“Must be hard for you,” Eggsy says softly. “I can’t imagine.”

“It was a terrorist cell,” David continues, thumping his head against the back of the couch with a beleaguered sigh. “They tried framing me too, for the murder- I’ll tell you the whole story one day, when we have the time.”

“We have the time now,” Eggsy points out, scooting closer to David until their thighs touch each other, the long line of it warm and pleasant. There’s a tiny smile playing at the corner of David’s lips- one of the first few he’s seen ever since entering the apartment.

“I wouldn’t want to chase you away,” David says wryly. Eggsy feels the words form on his tongue- _you’d never be able to chase me away, _and _I’m here til you’ll get sick of me-_ but he swallows them down, feeling the rough edges of them cut at his throat. He had to be careful, whilst around a man like David with eyes bluer than anything Eggsy’s ever set his eyes on. “People have conditions, to their staying. Step one toe out of line, and that’s them gone.”

“I don’t have any,” Eggsy says, laying his hand on David’s closed fist. “You just have to trust me.”

“Perhaps I will,” David says lowly. They stay like that for a few seconds, Eggsy’s heart swelling as he barely breathes in the still silence of David’s words hanging in the air like a promise, before he clear his throat. “Spaghetti’s getting cold.”

“Of course,” David says, a full blown smile now. “Wouldn’t want your hard work going to waste.” Eggsy picks the remote back up again but this time, cuddling closer to David and laying his head on his shoulder. David’s stiff, but he knows if he looks up he’d see that same smile playing on David’s lips, a sight Eggsy would like to store in the recesses of his brain forever.

Eggsy’s switching between the channels, deciding on one that’s showing a talk show when David says, suddenly, “Thank you.”

“What for?” Eggsy asks, looking up at him. David’s gaze is straight ahead, but his eyes are large and thoughtful. In that moment, he looks so beautiful that it makes Eggsy’s heart hurts- makes that niggling truth he’s been refusing to acknowledge for the past week try to come to the surface again. Eggsy ruthlessly pushes it down again, obstinate.

“For being here,” David says, leaning back and stretching his arm across the length of the couch behind Eggsy. “For not- I don’t know, for not letting me be alone with my own thoughts. It’s been- it’s hard, sometimes. You know how anniversaries are.”

Eggsy thinks of Valentine- of the massacre at the church, the signal going off, of the fight against Charlie and Poppy and of his father’s death. Then he leans up, stretches his neck up slightly and presses a kiss to David’s cheek. It’s a spur of the moment decision but the sight of David’s neck pinking up is worth it. “I’ve been through my own share of anniversaries too,” he says. “Maybe one day- I’ll tell you about them too.”

He’s unable to see it, but David’s smile is felt in the air like a balm.


	4. Chapter Three: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and here's part two!
> 
> tw for pedophilia mention, in the second part

David doesn’t wake up for a week.

After three days, it gets too much. Eggsy has to stumble out of the room, half descended into a panic attack with snot running down his lips and chin and his gaze filmy with tears. Roxy finds him in the hallway, bent double and hysterically sobbing into his knees, hands clenched in his hair. The chair creaks next to him as Roxy sits down, her hands hovering.

“I’m fine,” he chokes out between sobs.

“Of course you are,” Roxy says. “It’s a common occurrence to find you crying as if you’ve just found out the world is ending.” She waits until Eggsy’s sobs taper down to mere hiccups, before gently placing her hand on Eggsy’s back.

“Do you remember,” Eggsy says after a while, hating the way his voice scratches at his throat, hoarse and raw, “when I went with you to see Percival’s grave for the first time?”

“Of course,” Roxy murmurs, her hand going around in comforting circles. “It was extremely humiliating for me.” Roxy had hugged herself tightly when they’d approached his gravestone- white with a simple etch of her uncle’s name. _Andrew Morton, 1969-2017. _Eggsy had handed her the bunch of roses he’d carried over to be placed on his grave, and that had broken the dam. Roxy had burst into tears, hiding her face in Eggsy’s shoulder with the roses hanging limply from her hand.

“Nah, bruv,” Eggsy snorts, straightening up and leaning his back against the chair. He sobers up, staring at his hands. “We’ve lost so many people, Rox.”

“I know,” Roxy says softly, bumping her shoulder against his. She would know better than anyone, he supposes. He had been friendly with the agents killed by Poppy’s missiles, being invited over for family lunches and the like. Not to mention his best fucking mate in the whole universe, Brandon, and his fucking _dog- _at this point, Eggsy thinks he’s starting to lose his mind with the amount of people he keeps losing and losing and letting down.

“I just,” Eggsy swallows. “I don’t want to lose any more.” David was never his to lose but for some reason, he can’t let go of him. David’s here to stay, carved out a little nice place for him in the deepest recesses of Eggsy’s soul, invincible. Eggsy can certainly try to get rid of him, but he knows he won’t be successful.

Roxy’s hand pauses on his back. “He’ll be okay, you know,” she says gently. Her voice is low, purposefully soothing like Eggsy’s a child that she needs to be sensitive and careful with. Eggsy sure feels like one, yet again young and impossibly afraid of the unknown that’s to come. “I told you on the plane- he’s strong.”

Being strong, Eggsy doesn’t say because he’s not yet at the point where he wants to start acting like an asshole to every single person he loves, didn’t stop Percival from getting killed.

“You should keep yourself busy,” Roxy suggests, and Eggsy looks up to see her face scrunched up in that look of concentration she does when she’s thinking really hard. “You know- go on missions and the like.”

It’s not bad advice by any means. Eggsy may run on emotions, like Merlin had correctly assumed- use them as his personal fuel- but sometimes lying in ignorance of them seems equallt as attractive to him too. He walks into Merlin’s office the next day, and gets handed a mission in Belarus alongside Gawain with the express knowledge that the slightest hint of a fuckup will make him get taken off the field faster than he can say _oxfords. _Merlin’s often charming like that.

The mission is a success. Merlin debriefs him once he’s back on British soil, sounding insultingly impressed that Eggsy’s managed to achieve the mission objective without so much as a hitch. At the end of it he tucks the clipboard under his armpit and says, “Kay’s woken up.”

“Right,” Eggsy says after a tense moment during which he momentarily forgets how to breathe. Every single inch of his skin feels hot, tight, over-inspected. He feels like he’s under a microscope, being catalogued for how he’s going to react. “Anything else?”

“No, I-” Merlin pauses, dropping the clipboard to his hands, squinting at Eggsy before sighing. “You could go and see him, you know.”

“Has he asked for me?” Eggsy asks, pressing a hand down on his ribs and wincing as he leans back in his chair. He’d taken a rather painful kick there back in Belarus and hours later, it still stings like a motherfucker.

Merlin’s silent, and Eggsy looks up to see the area around Merlin’s eyes pinched, his lips pressed together. It’s incredible how Merlin doesn’t have to say a single word, and yet the answer’s still clear as day in every line of his face. You’d think spies would have greater indiscretion than that. David certainly does- he’d make a fantastic spy, greater than the lot of them.

“Right,” Eggsy says again, and stands up, brushing down his suit. It’s filthy- he really needs a change. “Am I dismissed, sir?”

“Eggsy-” Merlin starts, and then sighs again. “Dismissed, Galahad.”

Eggsy makes it all the way to the Kingsman mandated cab, stumbling down the hallway blind and then somehow finding himself in the backseat, a chauffeur in the front. “Where to, sir?” he asks, eyes meeting Eggsy’s own in the mirror.

“Home- uh, Stanhope Mews,” Eggsy croaks out, and then covers his face with his hands and inhales, taking in large gulps of oxygen that makes his head swim and his eyeballs feel like they’re about to burst. In spite of everything- that large, gaping hole in his heart that remembers David frowning at him, the exact tint to his glare as he’d said that Eggsy had ruined everything- he still can’t help that feeling of slight relief. There is a noticeable lifting of an unbearable weight on his chest that had been there ever since he’d watched David’s eyes roll back in his head in the hallway of that blasted warehouse in Budapest- something he hadn’t been aware of. It’s as if the colours of the world, somehow, are brighter just for David opening his eyes again.

He gets out of the cab at Stanhope, staggering up the driveway and then locking the door behind him. It’s nine pm and usually, Eggsy’s able to stay awake for far longer- he’s a night owl, something Tilde had always been vaguely annoyed with- but he feels an exhaustion in his soul that can’t be detached. He thunks the back of his head against the door and sighs, looking straight ahead. Harry’s dog, Mr Pickle, stares at him from the entrance of the loo, eyes frighteningly soulless as they’d always been. When Harry had moved in with Merlin, the man had abjectly refused to take in Pickle as well.

“Pickle Jr’s enough for me,” Harry had said, smiling lightly as he’d lifted the puppy up while Eggsy and Merlin had both stared at him. “I think its high time for me to stop dwelling on my past.”

It’s easy for Harry to say that- Harry moved on, Merlin by his side. Eggsy hasn’t. He wakes up every day with Brandon and JB and Merlin’s prosthetics and Roxy’s scar weighing him down like an invisible boulder, pinning him to the floor. Out of everyone, perhaps David had understood the most about that, having scars from mistakes you made be big enough to encapsulate your existence.

“You shoulda gone with your Da, Mr Pickle,” Eggsy tells the frozen dog, and then shuffles off to the shower.

*

In the end, what makes Eggsy realise he’s fallen in love with David is something completely absurd. It’s not a nice dinner, or David unknowingly sweeping him off his feet, or even a mission together. It’s maddeningly enough, David fucking up on a mission.

It had been a routine mission, run-of-the-mill and ordinary. One of the higher-ups of an illegal drug trafficking ring had been located in the underbelly of a club in Moscow, and David along with Bors had been tasked with bringing him in for questioning. That had been all that Eggsy had been allowed to know, at least until he’d received the news through Bors himself that David’s in medical and Merlin’s pissed off. It had been a nice morning too, with Daisy and his mother- he’d rushed off to hurriedly put his suit on, ignoring his mother’s all too keen gaze as he’d pressed a kiss to the cheek each for both of them and fled.

“What the hell even happened?” Eggsy snaps, as he flags down a cab. “I thought the two of you were handling it together.”

“We were,” Bors grunts. “But we got separated in the club and the connection was weak. Next thing I know, there’s a bang and I rush to the office of the club to see the target with his head blown in. Merlin had to get the help of the Kremlin to dart the entire club of people, he’s not pleased.”

That causes Eggsy to draw up short, his eyes widening. “The _Kremlin? _I thought we didn’t- wouldn’t MI6 be upset?” From the front the driver briefly looks at him, eyes wide with surprise. Eggsy covers the speaker on his phone and mouths, making sure the words are extremely obvious, _“Roleplay.”_ The driver turns back to the front again, looking faintly disgusted now.

“Merlin’s never cared about what the MI6 think of us,” Bors snorts. “He does care about his agents going off on their own and shooting targets dead, though.”

“Why’re you telling me this, anyway?” Eggsy asks as he balances the phone between his ear and shoulder, handing the money to the driver before getting out of the cab and walking briskly into the shop.

“Seen how you two are like, in meetings and such,” Bors answers, and Eggsy goes still, heart in his throat. “I mean- just assumed he was your best friend. Thought you’d want to know, and maybe talk Merlin out of going too hard on him. He’s just a kid, you know?” Bors had been in retirement, but got called out of it by Harry due to the sharp lack of manpower Kingsman had faced in the wake of Poppy. Even with operations running more than smoothly he still hasn’t stepped back, confessing to Eggsy that he’d missed Kingsman. “Once the whole secret agent thing gets a hold of you, it never leaves,” Bors had said, a wry grin. “It lets you go only when you die.”

Eggsy blows a breath out, stepping into the waiting bullet train and leaning against the cushioned covers. He remembers blowing David in here just last week, dismantling the security cameras right before that. They’d gotten their rocks off, but stepped out of the train to the whole mansion going under a lockdown enforced by a panicked Merlin convinced that somebody was about to attack them because of the surveillance malfunction in the carriage. “Right. Of course, Bors.”

When he reaches medical Merlin’s already shoving his way out of the room, looking irritable. At the sight of Eggsy he rolls his eyes, growing even more irritable if that was even possible. “Of _course _you’re here,” he snaps. “Talk some sense into your fucking friend, before I fire him.”

Eggsy reels back, shocked. In all of Kingsman’s history, he doesn’t think anyone’s ever actually been fired for being a terrible agent. “Can you?”

Merlin pauses then, and sighs. “No,” he says. “But I’m close. Make sure he doesn’t do something stupid like this ever again.” He wheels himself away, the aura of annoyance coming off him strong enough to make the decorative plants wilt.

“I don’t even know what he did!” Eggsy yells at Merlin. “He’s _your_ fucking recruit!” Predictably, he gets no response.

David’s sitting up in bed when he enters, a sour look on his face as he faces a stern talking to by the doctor- Morgana, just a few years older than Eggsy but seeming as though he’d been a part of Kingsman forever. He’d been deemed far too unimportant by Poppy to die, hence surviving the ordeal. At the door closing behind Eggsy he looks up, before his entire face breaks into a smile- stitches holding a gash above his left eyebrow together, right arm in a sling.

“…and get plenty of rest,” Morgana’s saying, back facing Eggsy. “I do not want to see you anywhere near this compound for at least two weeks, hear me?”

“Understood,” David says, turning back to Morgana. There’s a defeated slump in his shoulders, one Eggsy recognizes well. He’s seen it enough times in the mirror after every single time he’s been chewed out by Merlin for fucking up on the field. “Is- am I suspended?”

“If you keep pushing your luck, you will be,” Morgana mutters, scribbling something down on his notepad, his writing too illegible for Eggsy to parse through. “You don’t work for the government anymore, do you? You work for Kingsman now. Better realise that fast, before its too late.” He tucks the notepad under his arm and turns on his heel, fixing Eggsy with a stern look. “He’s discharged tomorrow- make sure he gets his rest.”

“Tell Merlin to go easy on him, make sure he sleeps,” Eggsy parrots, raising an eyebrow. “What am I now, his fuckin’ handler?” Yet again, he doesn’t get a response, Morgana striding off and letting the door close behind him.

Eggsy turns to David who’s looking down at his hands, eyes distant and distinctly filmy. He sits down beside him, far enough that there’s still a hair’s breadth of space between them. “Hey,” he says softly, waiting for David to look up, and pressing on when he doesn’t. “You feeling alright?”

“Not really,” David murmurs, still looking down at his hands. The knuckles are covered with a gauze, clearly bloodied and bruised up. Whatever had happened, it had been a hell of a fight. “I’m- so fucking upset, Eggsy.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Eggsy prompts. It’s a testament to how close they’ve gotten when David nods slightly, shuffling closer to Eggsy.

“I- fucked it up,” David admits. “The mission. Is- am I out? As a Kingsman?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Eggsy snorts, stretching his legs out, bringing his foot up to rest on the bed. It’s a good thing Morgana isn’t here, because if he had been he would have instantly screamed his head off at Eggsy. “Merlin may want to scream at you some more, but you’re not fired. Plenty of us make mistakes, you know.”

“Even you?” David asks, and it’s a question that startles Eggsy enough that he jerks slightly, wavering from his perch on the bed. He’s not the kind of man who inspires that sort of respect in people, who makes them think twice before looking at him as irresponsible, shifty, or all the manners of things he’d been before Kingsman.

“Especially me,” Eggsy snorts. The admission that he’d caused the destruction of Kingsman- left Charlie’s stupid fucking robot arm in the cab, let it hack the details on each Kingsman agent- is on the tip of his tongue before he swallows it back down. No need to disturb David’s impression of him so thoroughly just yet. “And Merlin, and Roxy, and Ha- Arthur. You feel like you’re alone, but you’re not.”

David swallows visibly, looking torn. “Did Merlin tell you what I did?” When Eggsy shakes his head, he sighs, the corners of his mouth downturned. The thumb of his right hand shakes, a minute tremble, but it’s enough to catch Eggsy’s attention anyway. He takes it in his own left hand and waits for David to continue speaking.

“Bors and I got separated in the club. We were supposed to bring in the target alive,” David says. There’s a certain roughness to his words, as if it’s a chore to get them out in the first place. It’s taking a lot for David to tell him all this, Eggsy realizes with a shock, and his grip on David’s hand tightens. “He had- information on some stupid trafficking ring. So we’re searching for him, right, and I find that there’s a backdoor with two guards on standby. Bors tells me to wait for him first but there’s a scream from inside and I can’t wait, so I dart the guards and break it down.”

David pauses, and Eggsy realizes he’s on tenterhooks, his nails digging into the skin of David’s hand. He relaxes his grip, apologetic. “And then?”

“He was- there was a boy in chains. Fifteen,” David says, choking out the words, more accented than usual, and suddenly it’s very, horribly clear what David had walked in on. “I couldn’t- how the fuck was I supposed to let him go after that? I blew his fucking head in.”

Eggsy exhales, swearing. There’s only been one mission on which he’d encountered something like the one David’s describing to him, and experiencing it with his own two eyes had caused him to be off duty for two weeks straight. There’s a certain sort of horror that comes with the true, genuine realization that monsters do exist, tucked in the shadows like a well kept secret. “David-”

“You’re going to tell me it was a shit decision,” David snaps, eyes flashing, “and I know it was, I _know_, but you weren’t there- you didn’t see-”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, but I wasn’t,” Eggsy says, rolling his eyes. “He’s a monster and deserved to die.”

David appears to reel back at his words, shocked and his lips falling apart to form the shape of an ‘o’. “You don’t- you don’t think I just made the biggest mistake of my life?” He’s older than Eggsy but in this moment, he sounds achingly young, his eyebrows scrunched together.

“I’m not your boss, David, I’m your-” fuckbuddy? Bedmate? Paramour- no, that was the most ridiculous one yet, he really had to stop hanging around Harry- “friend,” he settles on saying, the word sounding awful and wrong on his tongue like a particularly sour candy. “I’m not going to chew you out, you have Merlin for that. You just missed us a lead but Kingsman is resourceful. The mission’s not over. Walking in on something like that, you can’t blame yourself- I would have done the same thing.” Eggsy in fact, knows he would have reacted worse- did react worse, in fact. “You’re not booted from Kingsman,” he adds gently, rubbing his thumb over the back of David’s hand.

David nods slightly, his face slightly turned away from Eggsy. “Do you think it was weak?” he asks quietly, hand clenched in on Eggsy’s own. “That I- reacted like that. Flew into a rage and acted on my emotions.”

“Of fuckin’ _course _not,” Eggsy says, scoffing. He pauses, thinking of how Merlin had stormed away in a rage from the room, full of fury at the loss of a giant lead. Harry, in the plane on the way to those hills in Cambodia, telling him how nothing had flashes through his mind when he’d gotten shot in front of that church. Himself, running straight to the loo in the airplane on the way back from that disastrous mission much like David’s all those months ago, retching and retching until tiny dots of blood had speckled the toilet seat. “In fact, I’d say I’d be terrified if you didn’t react like this. It’s how we react to monsters like them that tell us if we have a soul or it’s been killed by this job.”

David blinks, staring at him- again, in shock. “That is- surprisingly astute.”

“People are always surprised to find out I have a brain,” Eggsy says, preening. They sit like that for a while, Eggsy amusing himself by drawing random dick patterns on the back of David’s hand with his thumb until David squirms, reaching over on the bedside table. He shifts through his belongings until he grasps for his wallet and Eggsy lets him go, confused. “What-”

David opens the wallet, pulling out a thumb drive no bigger than the size of Eggsy’s ring finger, bounces it on his palm. There’s dried blood on the side of it and all of a sudden, the implications hit Eggsy and his heart rises to his throat. “Is that-” he whispers, stretching his hand out for it, and David drops it on his outstretched palm.

“The kid handed it to me from this secret stash that sick fuck had in the back room of the club,” David confirms, nodding at the tiny thumb drive. Eggsy turns it over in his hand, still in awe. “I didn’t tell Merlin what I saw him do,” David continues, his voice devoid of any inflection. “I- I froze up. I kept thinking, what kind of organization sends their agents after a fucking pedophile? But you came to see me, and after what you told me, I trust you. And because I trust you, I trust Kingsman.”

Eggsy knows what’s the appropriate reaction to this. Phone it in, get David kicked out on grounds of him being compromised, yell at David for being a cagey, untrustworthy idiot. Roxy, Kingsman’s model agent, would certainly do it. All he feels, though, is a sense of feeling mightily impressed by David’s calculations- his survival instinct. David’s staunch refusal to become absorbed into the giant, soul sucking espionage machine that is Kingsman- it is something Eggsy can respect, can even admire and- love. And there it is, he thinks dryly to himself, the acknowledgement of a fact he can’t bring himself to ignore any longer. How fucked up is it, that David being an untrustworthy, emotionally constipated and coldly calculating prat has made him fall in love? “Christ,” he says instead, his voice hoarse. “How did you even shoot the fucking dog?”

David laughs at that, and Eggsy can’t help but smile. “The bullet was a blank,” he says. “I’ve held enough guns in my lifetime to tell the difference.”

*

The doorbell sounds like a klaxon in the middle of the night, shocking Eggsy from a very deep, jet lagged sleep full of confusing dreams that drift away like quicksand the second his eyes open. It takes him at least three full minutes for him to find a discarded pair of sweatpants on the floor and another shirt ridden through with holes, shrugging them on haphazardly and then making his way painstakingly to the front door, during which the doorbell is pressed at least six more times in quick succession.

“Fuckin’ ell, I’m coming, I’m fuckin’ _coming!”_ Eggsy shouts irritably, stomping his way to the hallway of the front door. “Three am in the fuckin’ morning, are you fuckin’-” he yanks open the door and then blinks at David Budd standing on his front porch in his typical bomber jacket getup, hand raised and ready to hit on the doorbell again. He’s still pale, holding himself stiffly, butterfly stitches over his eyebrow.

Eggsy closes the front door behind him and steps out on the porch, leaning against it. All the sleep that had been still gathering behind his eyes has been replaced by a shocking sort of alertness, his heart thumping rapidly in his ears. “You’re supposed to be in the medical wing,” he says blankly, staring at David.

“I know,” David says. “I escaped. Merlin doesn’t know I’m here.”

“He’s gonna be furious,” Eggsy says, folding his arms. David looks achingly beautiful, framed in the moonlight like this- the tips of his hair alight, a sheepish smile turning the corners of his mouth up. Eggsy doesn’t need more reminders like this one that David will never be his. “Spit it out. What are you doing here?”

David swallows, looking contrite. “Okay- I guess I deserved that.”

“Do you now,” Eggsy says flatly. Three am in the night and he’s running on four hours of sleep after an exhausting mission cum flight, talking to the man he’s very much in unrequited love with. Just once, he’d like to know what he did to be put on God’s hitlist.

“I’m sorry, for acting the way I did,” David says. “I- you didn’t-”

If it’s possible, the words serve to incense him even further. “What the fuck, are you apologizing for not being in love with me?” Eggsy demands, causing David’s eyes widen. “You think I’m the sort of selfish fucking prick to hold it against you for not wanting to have a life with me?”

“No- that’s not what I was-”

“What, you think your cock’s that huge?” Eggsy snaps, standing up straighter with the force of his fury. God, how pathetic- David must think he’s been gorging himself on ice cream, trying to get over him. Which he had been, actually, but David’s presupposition of that is like a thorn in his side digging its claws in. “I’ll get over you eventually. You don’t have to love me back.”

“Eggsy-”

“I’ll just request for a transfer to the Scotland distillery or something,” Eggsy continues, eyes flitting erratically around. “Now if you will excuse me, I’m very tired and I need to-”

“Eggsy, for fuck’s sake, can you shut the _fuck _up and listen to me?!”

Eggsy abruptly shuts his mouth with a click, stunned into silence at the sharp pitch of David’s yell. They stare at each other, David glowering and Eggsy in shock. In all their time together, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen David like this- furious, hair on end, his eyes full of a strange, wild desperation.

“I was _apologizing,” _David snarls, stepping in close until they’re a mere hair’s breadth away from each other, “because I’ve treated you horribly. I lashed out at you because of my own fear, and it was wrong of me to do that. I _love _you, Eggsy, so much that I’m stupid with it.”

It’s as if everything ceases to exist, except for David in front of him. Eggsy blinks, feeling as if his thought processes are moving ahead at the speed of very, very slow-moving sludge. “You don’t love me,” he says blankly. “You said-”

“Yes, I know what I said!” David shouts, stepping back until he’s on the edge of the porch. He runs a hand through his hair, messing up all the strands and inhaling deeply. It makes the defined muscles of his stomach stick against his shirt, high definition like a very alluring painting. It also makes Eggsy swallow noisily, shifting his gaze away. Of all the times to get a hard-on, this was perhaps the worst. “God, Eggsy, I was fucking _lying.”_

If it is possible, this revelation stumps Eggsy even more. He feels his jaw drop, having the very strange- and unfortunately, familiar- sensation of being slapped with a brick. “I- hold on, you were lying? Why the fuck were you lying?”

“Why the fuck was I- Eggsy, take a look at _yourself _and then look at _me,”_ David yells, sounding furious. He has no right to sound as furious as this. If anyone’s going to be furious here, it’s going to be Eggsy for being duped like this. “God, how can anyone not love you? You’ve turned my life completely upside down. You’re the only reason I get up in the mornings, sometimes. You make me feel absolutely powerless. Like I’m a kid again, lost in a crowd without my parents.”

Eggsy’s well familiar with that feeling too. The heady sensation of falling head first, the knowledge that without even realizing it, he’d given his life and soul over to someone else entirely.

“I’ve loved once, before,” David says, softly now. The anger is gone, now- his hands hang loosely by his side, the butterfly stitches on his eyebrow soaked through with blood. “It ended badly. I’m so fucking terrified of the way you make me feel. Aren’t you?”

“Of the way I make myself feel?” Eggsy jokes, but at David’s stern look subsides. “Of course I am. I never meant to tell you that I love you. I hate that you make me feel like this- that you can undo me with one look, and that I keep looking for you in every room that I enter.” He swallows roughly, his eyes pricking with tears. “Of course I’m scared of you. You broke my heart with just a few words.”

David’s mouth twists in a grimace, his eyes widening. “No- Eggsy, I’m so sorry. I’ll never- I regretted that so much, I’ll never say anything like that ever again, I promise. I was an idiot.”

“You were,” Eggsy says, grinning as he uses the back of his wrist to swipe at his eyes, before reaching for David’s hand. He uses the momentum to pull David in. “You didn’t just come here in the middle of the night to yell at me about how scared I make you feel.”

“No, I didn’t,” David says, breathing deeply. “I had a lot of time to think, in that room they tortured me in. I wanted to tell you, when you saved me. I’m still so scared of this- of us- but I don’t want to give you up. I was an idiot before, Eggsy. But if you’ll have me-”

“You sound like you’re proposing,” Eggsy breathes, grinning when David splutters. “I can’t handle you breaking my heart a second time, David Budd. If we’re going to do this- no more pushing me away. No more lies.”

“Deal,” David whispers. “I love you so _much, _Eggsy Unwin.” And then he leans in, pushing Eggsy against the door before kissing him with all that he has and it feels, startlingly, like something new all over again.

*

**Epilogue: **

The day starts out slow, gradual, the morning light slowly filtering in. Eggsy takes his sweet time waking up, drowsing for at least five minutes before pushing up with a groan. The memory of last night still lingers in his mind like a sweet, soft lullaby- them knocking over the furniture in their haste, Eggsy laughing when David had toppled over the bottom step, David pressing his mouth to Eggsy’s shoulder as he’d pushed in bare. Last night had felt strange- Eggsy wasn’t used to this, wasn’t used to being handled like something to be cherished.

He flings out his hand, still smiling- and then his eyes pop open when it meets nothing but air. David’s side of the bed, all done up, his clothes gone. Of course. Of _fucking _course, Eggsy thinks with tears of frustration prickling at his eyes, as he hurriedly goes about his business before throwing on a sweatshirt and a pair of shorts. What had he been thinking? Last night had been too good to be real. Last night didn’t-

He stops short at the landing on the first floor, staring at the entrance of the kitchen.

“Morning,” David says, as he flips the pancakes in the pan over the stove, looking very sleep-ruffled and warm and gorgeous in just a pair of sweatpants that Eggsy recognizes to be his. “I made breakfast, you keep this pantry very well stocked. Let you sleep in too- you seemed exhausted last night.”

“No thanks to you,” Eggsy breathes out, relieved. “I saw you gone- I didn’t-”

David frowns at him, confused, and then his eyes widen in hurt. “You thought- you thought I’d leave?” At Eggsy’s ashamed nod, he sighs, his shoulders slumping. “Suppose I deserve that, aye? I’m not leaving, Eggsy. Not ever- you’ll have to chase me out with a broom.”

“Never,” Eggsy says, grinning. He walks over to David, laying his head on his back and wrapping his arms around him. David feels warm in his hands, all the soft skin and hard planes of him. “Thank you.” _For making breakfast. For coming to see me last night. For being brave enough to stay._

David reaches back, entangling his fingers with Eggsy’s and squeezing hard enough that Eggsy feels his fingers might break. He doesn’t mind it, the force reminding him that this is real, they are real. After all these weeks of pain and hurt on a level unimaginable to him before, he’s finally gotten what he never thought he could have.

“Thank _you,”_ David says. There’s a hint of a grin in his voice, as he continues flipping the pancakes. “For making me have drinks with you all those months ago. For- making me realise I don’t have to be scared anymore.”

His heart’s beating rapid fast, beneath Eggsy’s hands. Eggsy just clutches him tighter, breathing deeply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a few notes!
> 
> a) this has truly been an Effort (tm) for me, considering this was initially supposed to be two chapters only, and yet somehow stretched into four  
b) if you squint, you'll realise i've left various openings as companion fics to this story, because i (eventually) plan to return to this universe too so keep your eyes peeled, i guess!  
c) i truly apologise for the delay in this two parter update (especially because there's very little sex and its incredibly wordy) but i hope its up to everyone's expectations! if it isn't thats too bad for you  
d) as always you can talk to me on tumblr at himbotaron i don't bite

**Author's Note:**

> its taken me really long to post this because i've been dealing with a severe writing block and have just been uninspired in general. anyway i hope everyone liked this, and as always you can hmu @ himbotaron on tumblr


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